Swimming in the Deep End

The first time it happened I had a hard time believing what I was reading. It appeared my experience of spending the last ten days of my birth mother's life in the hospital with her,  helping ease her anxiety as she faded away into death, watching her turn grey and the heartbreaking experience of seeing her lifeless body,  had been stolen by my former wife and used as *their experience. They denied it, of course, and I was quick to believe their explanations that their advisor (who's letter I had read which led me to this discovery) had misunderstood them. I believed them because how could anyone do that? Who would take someone else's story and make it their own, especially their wife's story? I believe them because I wanted so badly to not have made a mistake trusting and marrying them. The second time it happened was during the whole Donald Trump "grab them by the pussy" news story. I had shut my Facebook down for a while as I was overwhelmed by all of t...

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...

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...

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...

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 La...

The other day,  I read this brilliant essay with tears streaming down my face.   Please read it. This Is Not For You    Pretty much every single word she wrote resonated with me.   I have struggled feeling like I fit anywhere all of my life, but I'm always extra sad when I feel like a misfit in my own community.  I’ve been called bisexual like it’s a dirty word. I recall the times when women have bragged about being gold stars* with an air of superiority.  I cannot tell you how many time people have treated me like property of my butch partners because I am wearing a skirt and heels and expertly applied eyeliner.  I remember that one time a “well meaning” gay guy asked me   if I was gay because I thought I couldn’t get a guy because I’m not skinny, and tried to reassure me that I’m still pretty even if I’m not thin. (Maybe because I’m girly he thought I wasn’t genuinely queer.) I have loved men, both cis and trans. I have loved them fo...

Having spent 44 years on this planet, I have learned a thing or two about love. I have learned that words are fantastic and all but in the end fairly meaningless. I have been seduced by pretty words more often than I care to admit, excusing actions that belie the most exquisite professions of love. One of my favorite songs, Teardrop by Massive Attack, begins with the following lyric "Love, love is a verb, love is a doing word." If you want to know how someone feels about you, just watch their actions...that is where you will find the truth. It is true what they say, the truth really can set you free.

Thank you for breaking my heart  Thank you for tearing me apart  Now I've a strong, strong heart  Thank you for breaking my heart                    - Sinead O'Connor  What doesn't kill you makes you stronger right? I am going to be a veritable Hulk when this is all over because the alternative is to lie in a broken pile or be consumed by bitterness and anger, which I refuse to do.  Watch me rise from the ashes stronger and more brilliant than I've ever been...shining like a fucking beacon of happiness because I will have my freedom. I will never walk on eggshells again. I will live and laugh and love the way I want. I will never again make myself small for another. I will celebrate my big generous heart instead of berate myself for being taken advantage of. I will come out of this wiser, oh so much wiser. I will rise with my integrity intact. The most important part of all of this is that I will rise....

What will 2017 hold for me? Relationships Letting go of relationships that are not meant for me and nurturing relationships that feed my soul. For me the greatest joy in life is connecting with amazing people, so I plan to do more of that with more people.  My marriage has ended and will also come to a legal end shortly. I will let it go with gratitude for the lessons learned and the beautiful times that were shared. I am richly blessed with the most incredibly loving and supportive family one could hope for. I plan to spend more time with them and cherish every minute of it including celebrating my son's marriage in June. I am also excited about spending more time with my birth mother's family and getting to know some of my cousins and aunts and uncles better. Travel Winter - I'm starting the year off with a bang by traveling with friends to the women's march in Washington DC in January. We are all crashing in a basement airbnb on the cheap and shari...

Grief sits like a rock in my heart This rock is made of molten lava, it certainly feels that way This red hot lava rock is burning burning burning The tears fall down my cheeks I imagine the lava rock searing a hole straight through my heart Then out of my chest, plopping out and landing on my keyboard Grief, they say, is only lessened with time I am staring down the long dark road ahead Squaring my shoulders and taking steps Letting myself feel all of it I walk down this road leaving a trail of red hot rocks behind

These are dark and scary times we are entering. Our country has elected a racist bigot who has no respect for women and who seems willing to take way the rights of LGBTQ folks. When I first heard the news I was shocked, I made my way home and sobbed, plotting my move to Canada. The next day was kind of a haze, but amid the haze I realized I would not abandon my home and community out of fear. Yesterday I went for a body/energy treatment, which was amazing. If you are in the Portland area Laura is offering this on a donation basis during the month of November as a way to help people during this stressful time. Check it out here . I went in feeling the weight of the world on my body, not just what has been going on politically but the turmoil that has been going on in my personal life as well. I cannot tell you how healing this was for me to take this time for self care. I walked out of there feeling so much better emotionally. I felt myself surrounded by a pink bu...

You know those stories about people just chucking everything and taking off for the wildnerness, or a year of world travel, or a hike up the Pacific Crest or Appalachian trail? I crave the ability to take a real journey of that nature.  I have great envy for those folks who are financially capable of doing such things. Maybe they don't have to worry about a mortgage and student loan payments. Even though I am incapable of physically leaving on a grand adventure of self discovery, I find myself in the wilderness,  even as I sit in my beige cubicle in insurance land. Somewhere along the way I lost me. Sometime in the last couple of years I forgot who I am. I became a smaller version of myself until now when I look in the mirror I  barely recognize the person staring back.   I had been thinking I needed help finding my way back to who I am, but the realization struck me this weekend. Why should I limit myself to finding my way back to who I once ...

I sat in the car listening to Roxy Music, the sweet buttery sound of Brian Ferry's voice seemed melancholy like my mood. I sat watching the rain hit the glass through the tears streaming out of my eyes. The sobs kept coming and for once I didn't fight it. I gave myself over, gave myself permission to feel all of it. Eventually I pulled myself together, went in to the doctor's office, paid my copay, and was ushered in to the exam room. The doctor, not my usual guy, was kind, funny, a little flirty...I tend to bring that out in men. He noted my blood pressure was elevated and asked if that was normal. I pointed out that I was there with a migraine and that pain raises blood pressure. He nodded and then I blurted out, "Honestly I think my blood pressure is elevated because of Donald Trump." He stopped and said, "You know I've heard that quite a bit lately." I then went on to tell him I needed a refill of my Ativan while I was there because honestly ...

Waiting has always been a hard thing for me.   The unknown is unsettling. This is strange coming from me maybe given that I am such an adventure junkie and love to go to unknown places and experience things I’ve never before experienced. But the waiting ….the uncertainty, that eats at me. I have been thinking a lot about attachment lately and how, according to Buddhism, it leads to suffering. Being attached to a certain outcome, attached to having something or not having something….it leads to expectations and that leads to suffering. I am working really hard to stay in the present moment, to focus on this second right now and savor it while it is here. So often we let moments pass us by without paying attention.   Today I am recommitting to paying attention, to living in the now. Now, today I am good. I am happy, I am comfortable in my own skin. Tomorrow will come and I will take it as it comes.

Goodbye my mother the mother I never really knew. Goodbye to the woman housed me in your body for nine full months. Goodbye to the 16 year old girl who held me once and then handed me over to the nuns with a hope I would have a better life than you could provide. I want you to know that I have had a beautiful life. My childhood was filled with love, two doting parents, a wondrous brother who was my very first friend. Today we scattered your ashes. Today I waded out into the Columbia River at Astoria where you wanted to be scattered at the sunrise with the outgoing tide. I waded out and spread your remains with tears flowing down my face, my heart filled with regret. I walked back to shore and your brother, who was more father to you than brother, put his arm around me and reminded me that I still have blood family left. We stood there and watched your remains float out, your brother and sister telling stories about you, so I could know you a little better now t...

I passed by him on the way back from the bathroom, hands in pockets, eyes cast to the ground, waiting on the elevator so he could go down and smoke, so he could go fill his lungs with poison, the poison that killed my birth mother.   I wanted to yell, “Wake up! Don’t invite death to come early. ” I didn’t. I went back to my desk and my favorite lyric popped into my head “And it's hard to want to stay awake. When everyone you meet, they all seem to be asleep.”   I keenly feel my own mortality. Every day I try my best to be present, find adventure, and experience all I can. I sometimes walk past a group of people and listen as they talk about all of the shows they watched on the television the night before and it’s not just one night, it’s every night. They get up, they go to work, they go home, they plug into the tv, they go to sleep, they repeat. On the weekends, they may go to a movie, have sex with their spouse, or go to the mall, but they rar...

Early Saturday, driving up I-5 on a misty cool Pacific Northwest Morning singing at the top of my lungs to Peter Gabriel, thinking about apartheid, I glanced down at my gas gauge and saw that I had almost a full tank, almost a full tank in a Prius. I was struck with a strong impulse to just keep driving.  I tried to push the thought out of my head and kept singing, thinking of Steve Biko, his tragic death at age 31, a promising life cut short because of hate. I wondered if he knew he would die so young if he would have made different choices, gone on more adventures, had more or less lovers, chosen a different path. With tears streaming down my face, I cried for Stephen, I cried for my birth mother, recently deceased at age 60, another life ending far too early.  I needed something to cry about, a way to release the storm in my heart. I pulled over at a rest stop to walk it off; searching my purse to find that my passport was still in there, I took mental inventory of the clo...

I am adopted. I've always known. I don't remember my parents ever telling me, it was just something that was always talked about....how my family came to be. They adopted my brother, then three years later Wendy was adopted. She tragically died of SIDS and then they adopted me. I grew up being told that my birth mother was very young and loved me so much that she wanted me to have a better life. I grew up knowing that her giving me up was an act of love and sacrifice and that I was in the family that I was meant to be a part of.  I never felt like this wasn't my real family. It always offended me when people would imply our family was not real because we did not share DNA. Growing up I'd sometimes meet women who I really clicked with who were around what I thought her age was and sometimes I'd fantasize they were my birth mother. I was always curious but also reluctant to search for her. I carried papers around from the adoption agency for 10 years that I coul...