Rehab and a Life After Christmas

A conflicted heart rests in me after spending the Holiday with my family. A heart full of love and memories called me home, yet looks and passing words of judgment make me feel as if I don't belong once I'm there.

A weak hug given to me when you saw me and a warm, welcoming, long embrace to my sister when you saw her. Comforting my sisters when we found out that Mom was going to rehab for addiction, yet dodging my embrace when I went in for a hug. Talking openly to my sisters about their homes, their families, their lives, yet not uttering one word to me, sitting on the opposite couch as we watched a Holiday film, avoiding being even in the same room with me... the Father whom I was so close to in my childhood and young adult life, no longer recognizes me as his own.

Family Christmas Tree 2016

Sitting quietly on the couch alone as my sisters sat beside their husbands, as my Father read a passage from the Bible about love and acceptance. Feeling and seeing what to me seems to be pure hypocrisy, and me feeling so much like an outcast and so obviously aware that everyone was sitting by their partner whom they love, yet the person whom I love is not allowed in my parents home. Do my sisters realize my discomfort? They do not say. Do my sisters think about what it would be like if I were sitting there with the woman that I love? They do not say. One of my brother-in-laws playing worship songs on his guitar while the entire family sings along. I sit in silence as I do not know the words. Feeling more like an outcast and more out of place. I know these are not rare moments with my family, this is them. They live to serve God. To worship and praise. Yet to me, it seems like they have selected what they wish to believe and pushed out the rest.

Will I have the courage next year to bring E home with me?

A million other moments, some good, some challenging and hurtful, that show that I am 'set apart' of the family. When my Mother gives all my sisters "couples gifts", something special, worth a significant amount, all of them receive the same gift and to me, a gift card to a clothing store, it's value significantly less than what my sisters received. When my Dad asks my baby sister to pray before dinner on Christmas Eve, my older sister to pray over Christmas Breakfast, my younger sister to pray before our "praise session" with my family and then my brother-in-law to pray before we lite the Christmas candles. Even though I served as a missionary in Kenya and England for many years, that prayer request used to go to me. It no longer does. When my Mother tells all my sisters that she is going to rehab for addiction but doesn't tell me... these are little moments, that hurt me more than I can tell. Moments that might be overlooked by so many, yet for me, stand as if under a spotlight.

I know that time, time, time. I must give them time, but I am not currently living in the future, I am living in the now. I can see how far they've come, and I rejoice for that, but it is the now, the present that I am living in that burns like hot coals into my heart.

As E and I cuddled together on her couch with Finn (her Great Pyrenees) on the 26th after we had our own Christmas and were making our way through the Lord of the Rings trilogy, that feeling of being an outcast and that hurtful and heart wrenching feeling of being unloved from my family, vanished. Laying there beside her, with her hand in mine, listening to her as she watched some of my favorite films for the very first time, looking up at her and seeing her do that fabulous smirk of hers when she notices me smiling at her, I felt that love and acceptance that I missed all weekend. Being loved even while I was totally nerding out over a magic ring, for being loved as I sat in her house thinking about what it would be like next Christmas that her house, being our home, for being loved for simply being me, for being honest and open and being loved for being happy and being interested in my life. That hurt and that distance I felt from the family that I love so much was nothing compared to the acceptance and real love that I felt from a simple glance from the woman that I love.

Friends. Be strong. Be courageous. Be humble. Right now is only a passing thing. 2016 is almost over and 2017 is about to be begin. Do not loose heart about right now, about this moment, about last month or this month or next month. This moment, this month, next month will pass. Change is happening. Carry on, keep going, keep believing, keep loving. Never loose hope.



Frodo: I can't do this, Sam.

Sam: I know, it's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here, but we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end, because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing. The shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you and meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.

Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam?

Sam: That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for.

LGBTQ and Alone this Christmas

Only a few more days until Christmas. Only a few more days of anxiety and anticipation. Another year of conversations kept on the surface, of awkward small circles and venting opinions. Another year with the family. 

I know that I am not the only LGBTQ person out there who is familiar with these moments and even though I will be apart from the woman that I love this year for the sake of my family (2017, you will be a different story!), I am blessed that I am still allowed into the home with the family that I love. My folks have not cast me out of their lives, even though they have given me a list of dos and don'ts, "nonnegotiables" as my Mother calls them to shield them from my "Same-sex attraction lifestyle", I do get to go home. Whether this is a healthy choice for me or not... I guess I'll know in a few days. The home that I spent many great years and also many hard and challenging years, I will be there. I get to see all my sisters and my five unbelievable nieces and nephews, my grandparents will be there as well as my great-grandmother. I know, believe and understand that I am blessed. 

Last year I lay on the inflatable mattress in the apartment/storage room above the garage, crying myself to sleep on Christmas Eve, never feeling more alone in my life. This Christmas Eve, I will be laying on the inflatable mattress in the apartment/storage room above the garage, talking to my girlfriend E on the phone, texting friends that love and support me and being able to go to sleep in peace, knowing that I am loved by many just the way that I am. That I have friends and a few family members that have not given me "nonnegotiables" to live. That I am welcome into their home, holding the hand of the woman that I am crazy about, being invited to join them at their own dinner table. Sure this year is not ideal. I had to change plans last minute because I was overlooked in the planning by my Mother and will not be spending Christmas Day with E as we had planned, but I will get to see her. We will have our own Christmas together on the 26th. A date it just a date. It's the holiday, the spirit, the season that counts. 

To you reader, friend, that may not have a place, a family to go to this year, do know you are not alone. You are in my thoughts and prayers. I send you positive and loving vibes that go over any distance. It is extremely difficult to be alone over Christmas, I have been there, I have experienced it. Even when I'm surrounded by people that I love, there are oftentimes where I feel so incredibly alone. But one thing that I have come to constantly remind myself, is that this is temporary. This situation, this feeling, this holiday, is a passing thing. Be strong and courageous friend. 

Know you are loved, even though you may not feel it. Know you are special and beautiful just the way you are. Know that someone is thinking about you this Christmas season. Know that I will say a prayer just for you on Christmas Eve. I will cry for you that are not accepted by your family, I will smile with you who are making memories with a family that does accept. If you have not come out to your loved ones, if this is another Christmas of hiding who you are, be strong and courageous, be humble and full of love, be PROUD of yourself for being yourself and know that a brand new year is ahead of you and a new day is waiting for you. Remember you are beautiful and perfect just the way you are. For those who are like me and are in relationships with people our families cannot accept, be CONFIDENT in yourself, be strong and courageous and remember you are YOU, you are brave and beautiful and your love has just as much validity and truth as anyone else's. For those whose families have accepted them with open arms from the start and for those who took years and years of struggling and praying, but are now able to attend Christmas with your loved one and your family, you are amazing and strong and beautiful. Be HUMBLE in your speech and never forget where you've come from and who you are. 

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and Happy Holidays my dear friends. You are not, nor are you ever alone! 

"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10

“Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7

“I will not leave you or forsake you.” Joshua 1:5

“Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.” Deuteronomy 31:6

My Gay Holiday Dilemma

Camping circa 1993
(I'm in the dalmatian shirt)

There are somethings in life that I think I have figured out. Things that I feel accomplished in. I feel like I can ride a horse like a boss (Western, English or Australian saddle, I can handle it.). I believe that I am pretty good at snowboarding. I'd like to say I'm a pretty good creative writer and not too bad on the harmonica. These are things that I know that I am pretty good at and have confidence in myself in, but there are some things, things that really matter, that I feel as if I'll never fully understand.

With three sisters and two incredible parents that have been married for 35 years, my family is
extremely close. We tell each other everything and know each other so well... or so we say. As the Holidays are here and with a family of six, all three sisters are married and with five nieces and nephews, things get busy. And just as I believe that I am a good communicator and that I try very hard to with my family, relationships go both ways. I may be open and honest, but if they are not, then trying to keep a relationship up is near impossible.

As I was planning on going down to San Antonio to meet my girlfriends family after Christmas, we both had it all planned out to the hour! This is one of the many reasons why I adore E as much as I do is our love for planning :-) Work on Friday, stay at my flat and take care of Dan (my lazy three year old cat), head down to my Folks' house Christmas Eve morning, be there by 9am, hang with the family and the sisters, make pizzelles, have our family Christmas bunco party that night, than stay the night there with the family on a pallet in the living room, wake up on Christmas morning around 7am, have homemade cinnamon rolls with the family, do the grand-kids presents by 9 am, adults stockings (we don't do presents for the sisters and I anymore... adulthood is tough guys.) than lounge around for a few hours, maybe watch a Christmas movie and than by 13:00, everyone is headed out to their in-laws. See, I told you, to the T. This was the game plan that I had confirmed or so I thought, with the sisters as well as my Mom. So... as you usually do when you are in a serious relationship, I planned out what I was going to be doing after the family Christmas with E. I told her that I would leave my folks' house no later than 14:00, head to San Antonio (about four hours away) and meet her and her family there. Stay the night there and then we would drive back together on the 26th.

Well, here is when that talent that I thought I had, failed me. First off, you have to see the importance of me choosing to spend time with someone outside of my family over a Holiday. In my near 30 years of existence, I have never done that. I have never had someone so important and special in my life that I was someone that my Mother had to check in with over the holidays to see if I was busy. Until now. Interestingly enough, most of my family do not acknowledge that the relationship that I am in with my girlfriend is a 'real' relationship so... there's always that situation, but I guess because I'm not married that my life, my plans are 'flexible'. This is not something that has happened since I have come out, but is just the way things have always been since I've entered adulthood.

I have always seen my Mother as Mrs. Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. Her one goal in life, to get her daughters married off to good, preferably wealthy, men as soon as possible. Now, as I have three sisters, three incredible sisters all of whom did their share of dating in high school and out of it, we had our share of eligible bachelors over to our home for Thanksgiving dinner, Christmas Dinner, family birthdays etc. My Mother would plan around when that sisters boyfriend (because if he was spending a holiday with us, then it was a big deal and marriage was always encouraged!) could join us. I vividly remember a few years ago when my youngest sister (probably around 20 at the time) wanted to bring her boyfriend at the time over for Christmas dinner. I remember it, because we had originally planned to have an early dinner around 16:00 and ended up moving it all the way to 13:00 so he could be there to have dinner with us and would then have time for both of them to go over to his families house. Nothing made my Mother more happy than to accommodate their schedule.

Now, as I am 28 (way too old to still be single in Mrs Bennet's, uh I mean my Mother's book) and in a serious relationship, I know, without a doubt that if the person that I were currently dating were a man, that my Mother would bend over backwards to make sure that we would both be welcome in the house and she would want to know everything about him and his family and if we had talked about marriage etc. As it is, it is not a man that I am dating and just from that one detail, the entire rhythm and flow of what I know so well about the way my family works, is thrown off-kilter. What I thought I knew so well, of how it would be once I fell in love, is totally unknown.

When I told my sisters a few days ago that I was going down to San Antonio to meet E's family after we finished with our family Christmas on Christmas Day, they all shared mixed feelings of excitement, curiosity and I guess encouragement. None of them mentioned that my Mother had a full Christmas day dinner planned for that afternoon. When I told my Mom that I was going to be leaving around 13/14:00 to go to San Antonio, she got super upset and said that I would miss Christmas dinner. I was totally thrown off! Christmas dinner? When was this planned!? I looked back through my texts and thought of all the conversations that I had had with my sisters and my Mother and no one ever mentioned that we were doing dinner. I asked my Mom when this had been planned because I certainly would have made sure that I was there for Christmas dinner. She said that she had told all the sisters and that they knew... but what about me!? Why didn't you tell me!? She knows that I am dating, which for me is a very big deal, so why did she not think at all to inform me about all the family plans. She looked back in her texts and informed me that she guess she didn't let me know and the last thing she told me was that we were wearing pajamas Christmas morning... but nothing at all about Christmas dinner.

Now, don't you reader start thinking 'Well, of course you'd have dinner on Christmas dummy." because in my family, with how extensive it is and the amount of family and in-laws involved, it changes every year. Last year all my sisters left around 11/12 to go to their in-laws on Christmas morning, my Dad ended up going to the barn and working and my Mom went down in her room, closing the door she read or took a nap (this is a very frequent thing with my Mother) so... I sat there, alone at my parents house on Christmas last year. I ended up leaving, stopping by Walgreens to grab a six pack, went to my flat and watched the extended version of the Lord of the Rings trilogy alone. It was not the best Christmas.

This year, anger filled me when after I had already made plans, that my family was then throwing blame around on me for choosing to not be with them on the biggest day of the year. I know, that if E were a man, that there would have been discussions about maybe moving the family dinner up a few hours, about even inviting him to come over and join the family for dinner, there would have been some discussion. As I sat and cried at my desk, hating my family and hating how much I loved them and hating how much of a play and pull they have over my life and how I wanted so bad to not be there, but I knew that I wanted to be there more than anything, they were my family and I loved them dearly... I spoke to E about San Antonio. E reacted and answered as the humble, graceful, understanding and incredible woman that she is. "There is nothing that we cannot figure out." "We will make our own Christmas." She helped me calm down, told me to take a deep breath, go for a walk, talk to my older sister and buy a Dr Pepper (my de-stress drink). To have someone who understands me that much... I tell you readers... it's pretty incredible.

There's no real answer to what the balance should be with my family and me being Queer. There are times when I give them distance, there are times when I attend every family event. There are times when I try to talk and ask them questions about their lives, there are times when I don't talk for months. I so wish that there could be a book that was customized to my own coming out story. A book that in bullet points told me how to act and talk to my family. 'At the two month mark discuss this. At the one year mark answer this...' but, that's not the way life works.

Me openly being in a relationship with a woman (E most certainly is not the first, but she is the first that I have been open with about to my family) is still new and scary to my family, but I have found my courage and I know who I am. I will not deny that I am a lesbian any longer should I be asked. If someone asked if I am dating anyone, I will tell them happily and proudly that I am blessed beyond anything to be dating an incredible woman named E. My family knows that I am with her. They know that we went to Seattle together. They know that I will spend New Years with her. Whether for better or worse, I am spending Christmas with my family and not with E. But I know that I will call her, facetime her, constantly text her and are even planning on wearing her pajamas in our family pajama Christmas picture (hehe, don't tell anyone!). And come the 26th and the 27th, we will be together in her house, which perhaps one day will be our home, spending Christmas together in each others arms.

Queer and Fearless

As a lesbian woman who has recently found her voice, this open life of mine still amazes me sometimes. Now, you have to remember that I grew up in a small town in Texas and when I mean small I mean small. With the population sign from the North that said "pop 656" and the sign from the South that read "pop 509", we weren't too sure how small we were, but we knew we were small! And, unfortunately, in a town that size, there were many, many hateful and prejudiced people. Against anyone who looked or thought differently than theirs. Now, in the early 2000's there were NO openly gay people in the entire school district. I didn't even know a single gay person in the entire town. Now, over the past ten years, four people (including myself) in my graduating class of 55 are openly Queer.

What I have come to find is that most hate or fear of LGBT is not vocal, sure, I have been called a "Dyke" and my girlfriend and I have had "Faggots" yelled at us before but, it's not in vocal or even physical hate that is most prominent. It is by looks, glances, these small hurtful gestures that cut harder and make me feel like I am truly unwanted. In small towns (and even in a big city where I live at now) these looks and gestures are very, very strong.

E and I just returned from Seattle a few days ago. Both of our best friends live up there and we wanted a little break before the madness of the Holiday season, plus, this was our first trip together as a couple! (No fights, but a lot of great and incredible conversations! I highly recommend anyone in a new relationship take a trip outside of where you live. Get away from the familiar and you will learn a lot about the other person!) Of course, Seattle is much like one of the progressive and open large cities in this great country of ours, and being gay is a non-issue. Bathroom stalls had signs that said "All-Gender Restrooms", rainbow flags along with the American flag hanging in shop windows throughout the city. We even came upon a rally at one point and the amount of love and passion for this country and the issues that are at stake was very encouraging. Holding hands, being affectionate, being open that we were a couple not only was a non-issue, but I could FEEL the difference in the city. I could feel the acceptance from strangers, I knew that people honestly did not care that we were two women holding hands and being flirty at a romantic restaurant in Pioneer Square. I could feel it in the air, as we walked around the Market that people were even more accepting of us together, that they were more excited that there was a bit of diversity visiting their baklava stall. I could see it as we walked hand in hand along the painted rainbow crosswalks in Capitol Hill... to physically feel acceptance, in not just a pocket of the city, but of the entire city was something so freeing and so physically warm and welcoming that it makes me teary-eyed as I think about it.

As we landed back at the DFW International airport from our five day vacation, that feeling of acceptance was sucked away. E and I walked hand in hand through the airport and the looks began again. We still stayed our cheery and in-love selves, but my mood changed. I could feel it and E could feel it. As we stood at baggage claim, we discussed a few key issues that are currently under way to come across in the Texas Senate next month; one bill forces teachers to out their Queer students to their parents should they know the student is LGBT (40% of homeless youth identify as LGBT), one bill will take away local ordinances that protect LGBT from discrimination (LGBT are not a protected class in the state of Texas) so shop owners, housing, businesses, churches etc can openly and legally discrimination based on someones sexual orientation and gender identity, and the other bill will force transgender people to use public bathrooms that correspond with the sex they were assigned at birth, not the one they identify with. (One of my dearest friends is a trans man and he has told me the horror and massive fear that the bathroom was while he was transitioning and the fear he has with what they are trying to make happen now).

We stood there at baggage claim, discussing these terrifying issues that are stake in the state that we both hold dear so much, her hand lingers a little shorter on my back, I keep my hands crossed across my chest, whether or not we said it out loud, we both felt the prejudices and the judgments of just us, being us.

As we hopped in the Uber that was being driven by a wonderful Mexican-American immigrant, we talked about our trip and he spoke about Mexico and his family here and his family there. He had propped his iPad up on the sun visor of the passenger seat and we watch MSNBC together... there was a white-supremacist rally going on at Texas A&M where the audience was yelling "Hail Trump". We discussed a bit about politics, but it was upsetting and scary for us all so we talked instead about his family and how much he enjoys driving for Lyft and Uber and after years of living in LA, he moved to Dallas and fell in love with the city as well as his wife.

The immediate and very real shock that even though there are strong, proud, passionate, brave, accepting and loving people in this world, there are also many more that are hateful, bigoted, fearful and powerful. Seeing the vivid difference of acceptance versus fear, within a matter of a few hours was eye opening. All I know and all I can count on, is that we must be brave. We must speak out. Not just for ourselves, but for everyone. We cannot just look at one persons opinion or watch one news station to make our opinion, be educated, be humble, love, accept, be strong and courageous.

A Family Much Like Yours

"When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me." - 1 Corinthians 13:11

Growing up in a family of six, with three siblings, all of which were girls, we were as close as could be when we were younger. Playing house, school and dress up, of which I was always the brother, the husband or the dog. My parents started AWANAS (a children's Bible outreach through our Church), were on the Mission board, my Dad sang in the choir and my Mom lead multiple Children's Bible studies. We were the ideal, small town, Southern, Church going family.

Now, as we are all adults and have families and/or lives of our own, the ideal image of our childhood is gone. Even then it was anything but picturesque. On the surface we were that All American family, but behind closed doors, we were a family of fights, anger, depression, anxiety, adolescent drinking, short conversations and very little open affection. Our home was a family of pure love and I never would have asked for anything else, but having been surrounded by this atmosphere growing up, it really transformed and made us the adults that we are today, for better or worse.

All of my sisters are married. Two have kids and my youngest is coming up on her one year wedding anniversary. It has been a difficult path for each of them at times, but they are all incredible, strong, confident and God-fearing women that I look up to and admire tremendously. As I'm sure a few of you are thinking, how old are your sisters and when did they get married? Young. Let's just say that. Young. After my father, I was the first one to attend and graduate from a four year University on both sides of the family (a Great Aunt and a distant cousin did I think). So the natural adventuresome spirit that is inside me, thrived to get out of the small Texas town (population 656... seriously.) After receiving my Bachelors, I traveled to a few different countries for a time than ended up receiving my Masters in London, England.

Now, why I am bringing this up is that not only are I a well traveled small town country kid, with a Masters Degree in Screenwriting and a thirst for knowledge and an unquenchable curiosity to travel, I are also a career woman. I'm pushing 30 and aren't married, have a University degree, living in a big city, working at a Newspaper and are 100% financially independent now... that sets me apart from everyone and when I say everyone, I mean EVERYONE in my family. My youngest sister went to University and so I was not the only one, but unlike me, she got married when she was 22 and already living the married life, no career life on the horizon for her at all. Of course, this may not seem like a big deal, but until you come from a traditional southern, small town, very conservative family... you will not ever be able to fully understand how 'odd' this is. How out of the ordinary and peculiar. Why would a woman not want to get married and have kids? Why would they ever want to work all day? Sounds super 1950's but... there are many, many people who still grow up and carry on this mindset.

On top of my career in Advertising in a multi-media company, my success in University as well as my extent of travel... I am also a lesbian. So not only is it difficult for my sisters and my folks to relate to me when they can't understand how important and how much a part of me is in my career and my education (this is a constant battle with them), but there is the additional boundary of my sexuality. My immediate family and I have still yet to figure out how to have an adult relationship with each other. My sisters got married and had kids at a young age, I went off to College and my folks tried to figure out what to do with themselves now that the past 30 years of their lives as raising kids was over... we are all certainly in a transition stage and patience and understanding must reside in all of us.

What I mean in writing all this today is that no matter what your sexual orientation or your religion or any other different factor, there will always be something that your family will not understand. But what I have come to understand, is that it is not my job to make them understand it. When it really comes down to it, love is love. Find love where it is. Be patient, humble, honest, real, sympathetic and above all, love. As my favorite author Victor Hugo once said: 

“The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved -- loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.” 

Be strong and courageous this week friends! You are loved!

A Love Challenged & A Love Won

Thanksgiving Eve 2016. 

My heart was heavy and my mind was going a million miles a minute as I sat next to E on the couch watching Under the Tuscan Sun. I was physically laying beside her, but my mind was miles away. This was E and I's first holiday together, this was not my first holiday away from my family, but it was the first holiday with a girlfriend. My family knew whom I was spending it with, that I had chosen to spend it with the woman that I love (in the lifestyle that they disapprove of) besides them. How could my heart be so full of happiness and love for E, yet at the same time, my heart was crying inside for the family that I was not getting to spend the holiday with?

The biggest fear that I have in regards to my family and their difficulty accepting me and my sexuality is the fear that I will never be able to be open and be fully myself when I am around them. That as I lay there and look at E, and she smiles that crooked smile she does when she notices me looking at her, I can't imagine a life where I cannot bring this passionate, beautiful and vibrant woman to meet the family that I love so dearly. That I cannot sit there next to her at my folks house and laugh and tell stories as the women in love that we are. E turns to me and says "What's going on baby? You are putting major walls up." She knows me, she understands me, she's patient with me, she loves me. As I openly talk to her about the thoughts going on in my mind, tears start running down my cheeks as they do hers. There is no place I'd rather be than in the arms of the woman that loves me unconditionally. 

Thanksgiving Day 2016. 

As I kiss E and get out of bed to make breakfast, the anxiety and fear of what I felt the night before is gone. I click the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade on in the kitchen, and I pull out the ever fabulous Bisquick and whip us up some pancakes. As E gets up and makes the coffee and we start talking about the day, the pizzelles that we made last night, the coffee this morning, Finn the majestic (aka her Great Pyrenees Finnegan), she asks if I'm ok and I genuinely truly are. I text my sisters and my Mom that morning (we are big texters in our family, horrible, I know), we wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving and tell each other we love them. Pancakes eaten, pecan pie made and pizzelles decorated, we head off to our first Thanksgiving dinner. 

E has lived in Dallas for nearly 15 years, being an extremely loved and active member of the arts community, she has friends on every corner and honorary family members out the wazoo. You always can learn so much from people by their friends. And E has some of the most incredible, loving and genuine people in her life. Spending the first Thanksgiving dinner at her dearest friends house, their family and a handful of 'misfit' artists, all welcoming, accepting and supportive of not only E and the plans and dreams she has, but of me as well and the dreams I have of writing and traveling, I see what love and support really is. Acceptance, not even acceptance, but just a complete unawareness or even the insignificance that we were two women who loved each other. How incredibly refreshing and inviting that is. We ate for three hours, E was told over and over that "you better not let her go" and I was told "that I'm invited again next year", we hugged everyone and then hand in hand, headed out to her truck to go to another dinner. This one was with a lot of her friends, of which a handful of them I had met before, all of which are accepting and most of them are LGBT themselves. As we sat outside and sort of watched the Cowboys game (E and I are not really football people) on a projector screen on the backyard, I took a deep breath and looked around me. At the incredible people that surrounded me, the kids being raised in loving same-sex homes and how blessed they are. 

I took a deep breath and thought of the Thanksgivings that I've had as a child, and the ones in years past and knew, and knew in my heart that there will be a day, where I can bring the woman that I love home with me to sit around the Thanksgiving table with the family that means the world to me. The terror that hits me when I realize how much I care for E and how much my family does not support me. The fear that takes over me when I start to think of what our life together would look like and the fear that hits me thinking that if I am never allowed to bring her home with me on Thanksgiving in years to come, how I will miss my family over that. How I must live my own life and be the woman that I know God has created me to be, but how terrifying that is thinking that there is the possibility of my family, my Mother, Father, sisters, nieces and nephews not allowing me to be a part of their lives. That we will never be welcome.

But until that day, however many years it may take, I will spend it with people that are accepting and supportive, people that love me for exactly as I am, who encourage me and make me want to encourage others. Where E and I can be ourselves and show little terms of endearment without the fear of being reprimanded for breaking one of the "nonnegotiables" of my family. Love is love. God give me patience and forgiveness, humility and wisdom, especially in this Holiday season. Dear Reader, you are not alone. You are loved. You are brave. You are beautiful. Find those that love you for just as you are. Be grateful and be blessed. 

"For God did not give us a spirit of fear; but of power, love and sound mind." - 2 Timothy 1:7 

"Be strong and courageous, do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your god goes with you, he will never leave you nor forsake you." - Deuteronomy 31:6

My First Gay Thanksgiving

The Holidays are here and for the first time in my life, I will be spending Thanksgiving away from my family. Not because I will be abroad or living in a different state like I have in years past, but because I am choosing to spend it with my girlfriend and our friends.

You may be thinking "that's not a big deal", yet you may be thinking "how dare you spend it away from your family!?" or even "why don't you just spend it with them both?". To understand why this is a momentous moment in my life, it is best if you understand my family. I have three sisters, me being the second eldest, my Mother and Father have been happily (for the most part) for nearly 30 years and Thanksgiving is a BIG deal in my family.

I remember growing up spending it with my Dad's parent's farm house and there were so many of us, my Dad has three siblings and they each have at least three kids each so... twenty some-odd kids running around, loads of fried food and Cool Whip bowls filled with various casseroles... but even with us kids running around like mad, we would all be dressed to the nines in our Sunday best. We would zig zag in a figure eight shape around the kitchen and dining table all holding hands, while my Grandad tried to get through a prayer without breaking down and crying. I have many, many beautiful, beautiful years of memories of Thanksgiving. Now, as we have all grown up and have families and lives of our own, we no longer have Thanksgiving with my Dad's parents, but my folks hold an early dinner of their own at their house.

Now... we are not frozen pizza for Thanksgiving dinner kind of people. We are, cook for three days prior, everyone wear beyond their Sunday best, my Mom decorates the dining table with so much beauty and thought that we usually have to move pieces off the table so we can actually find room for our plates. She color coordinates the cloth napkins and the brass or twine napkin rings to the chargers and the fine china and makes sure that there are pumpkins, Indian corn and all natural candles to match. It is a beautiful, perfect display of Thanksgiving. Both sets of grandparents show up as well as my 93 year old Great-Grandmother, all three sisters and their husbands and my now five nieces and nephews.

It is a time to spend with loved ones and those that you are inexpressibly thankful for.

Two years ago, I was currently living in Colorado and was happily in a relationship but my family did not know that we were happily dating. So when I went home for Thanksgiving two years ago, it was much like many years past, where I lied willingly to the people that I loved the most. I sat there in my new blouse that I bought for the occasion and wore my usual khakis and actually put my faded high top black Chuck Taylors aside and wore dress boots... and I lied to my family. They asked if I was dating anyone and I said "no". They asked how things were going and I would reply "everything is great! I love being in Colorado and the new job is going really awesome." It was a lot and I mean, A LOT of short ended, on the surface conversations. I was so happy because I had found a great group of friends (of whom about 85% were gay, but my family didn't know that), I had begun dating someone that I thought I was crazy for (of whom was a woman, and there was no way in hell they would ever know that), so all these things that made me so happy, this life that I loved and this life where I was no longer hiding, where I was free, was a second one. I was living a double identity. How much stress and anxiety could I put on myself without showing it! What if I slipped and said something I shouldn't!?

A year ago, I stood holding hands with my family, around the island in my folks kitchen. No longer dating, no longer 15 hours away in Colorado but... eight months prior I came out to my family. This was the first Thanksgiving with a lesbian daughter (Well, in their minds at least, this was my first). My older sister, her husband and their two kids were there, one of my younger sisters was 8 months pregnant and was there with her husband and their two kids and now, my baby sister was there with her fiance who were getting married that next weekend and me... just me... alone, openly gay to my new friends and coworkers and yet standing there with so much anxiety in my chest that it felt like someone was slowly pushing an anchor on my chest. The constant on the surface conversations with my family. Now they blatantly avoided asking if I had met someone I was interested in (I'm pushing 30 and so for small town Texas, I should already have three kids and a mortgage by now), avoiding too many hugs, me making sure that when I played dress up with my nieces and nephews that the girls wore 'girl' colors and the boys wore 'boy' colors as to not push my 'gay agenda' on them, as a few of my sisters called it. No one said anything, we took the family picture and enjoyed a fabulous dinner and it was a great holiday.

Thanksgiving 2016. I am in love. Not a fleeting, infatuation, but honest, real, exciting, scary love. The happiness that I feel when I am with or even when I'm away from E is so alive that one of my friends said that she can even see it in my eyes. For the first time in my life, there would be nothing happier than to bring the woman that I am in love with, home to meet my family that means the world to me. But... that is not the case. When my folks found out that I was dating someone and that that person is a woman, they gave me a list of "nonnegotiable's" that I could or could not do when I was at their house. One of them was that I could have "no display of homosexuality" in their house. No kissing, I'm sure I could refrain from (sorry E), but not being able to hold her hand while we sat in the living room lazy after dinner watching White Christmas with the family, not being able to pass a gentle touch on her shoulder in passing, so that my Mother might be offended by the action, no calling her my girlfriend... the list goes on and on... but just as my Mother has nonnegotiables, these things to me are nonnegotiable. All I ask is to be treated with the same respect as my sisters in regards to whomever I bring home... but... to my folks, that is nonnegotiable. There is no way that I will put myself in a place where on a day where I should be able to thankful that I found the woman I truly love. I will not put myself in a place where she could feel uncomfortable or threatened, where we will feel judged or anxious or stressed. There is a time where I must stand up and live for myself, to live for E and I, to live in love and acceptance. So, for the first time, I will be spending Thanksgiving not at my families house, but among friends where We are accepted and respected, where We are loved for ourselves and can be open and honest. I love this woman, I am so happy that she came into my life and everyday I think how lucky and blessed I am that we have each other.

On this holiday of thanks, I will give thanks for being me. For finally finding the strength, courage and grace to be able to speak openly to my Mother as to why I would not be joining them this year on Thanksgiving. I give thanks for the woman that I am constantly being amazed by. I give thanks for my health. I give thanks for my job. I give thanks that even though there have been disappointments in 2016, that I find hope and courage in everyday people. I give thanks to my family and I give thanks to the grace that God gives me.

Be strong and courageous. Find people during this time who love and support you. Know you are not, nor will you ever be alone.

"Give thanks in ALL circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." - 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Overcoming My Own Prejudice

Never in my life have I felt like I have personally experienced a prejudice or bias. Growing up in a small town in Texas, it was most certainly not something that I was unaware of, it just never had happened to me personally. Being a white woman, from a middle class blue collar family, there were things that I missed in life. I remember eating a cheese sandwiches for lunch for years. A "bend-er-back"(one slice of bread folded in half) as my Mother called them, one slice of singles cheese and a squirt of off-brand watery mustard for lunch for years. Cramming a family of six into a one room duplex for nine months because we had been kicked out of our home... these things I was not aware of as a child until I looked back on them as an adult. But like many families in small towns, this was not out of the ordinary.

When I came out to myself and eventually my friends and eventually to my family, I was not worried about prejudice to myself for being Queer. That was the least thing on my mind. I know that when I walk down the street, no one sees a lesbian, they see a white woman... until I am walking down that same street with the woman that I love. 

Only a few days ago, while I was out with my girlfriend, E, spending a splendid fall Sunday together, was I, were we, verbally attacked for being two women in love. We were sitting in her truck in traffic, my hand resting on her back as she looked over at me and we gave each other a slight kiss. The windows partially rolled down as we took in the cool breeze of a Texas fall and took in the comfort that we find in each other, when the word "Faggots!" yelled outside our window. A man, in his car, turned back towards the road and moved up in the traffic lane beside us. I looked around to see if there was someone on the opposite side of us or perhaps a car with the blue and yellow Human Rights Campaign sticker on it, but there wasn't anyone or anything. "Was he talking to us?" I inquired to E. She nodded her head like it wasn't a big deal, E has been out for twenty years. She has been verbally, emotionally and physically attacked more than once for who she is and she is even stronger, braver and more passionate for it. It's not like it didn't impact her in her own way, but me on the other hand, having only been living openly for two years and that being the 2010's, when so much progress had been made, was so unaware that issues like this were still happening. E had fought the fight in the early 90's, she had been one of the many, many incredible men and women who pushed and loved all throughout the 80's and 90's to where we are today. 

This man, whomever he was, made no impact on me with his words. I have been verbally assaulted by friends and family, people that I do care about, so one spouting of a hateful man means nothing. It was when I was going back and looking at this when it really hit me. I am outnumbered in what I believe. I am an outsider. E and I aren't always surrounded by people that accept us. When I went to the State Fair with E, only a short time ago, we were holding hands and being affectionate, but I had asked her that we wouldn't kiss while we were there. It wasn't for fear of any backlash or words being thrown at me, but in my mind, I wanted to be respectful of the families that were there and their beliefs. I didn't want to be apart of the "Oh my lord, there were two lesbians at the fair kissing and spreading their lesbianism..." stereotypes that go around... but this thought, this idea that I was protecting them from me... this is a thought that has been SO instilled in me by my family, by my friends, by my culture that I was missing being the hope and the strength for kids or even adults who were still in the closet. Growing up, I was so unaware that there was even another option for me. For years I assumed there was something mentally wrong with me because I was not attracted to men. I never saw LGBT people out in public, holding hands, being affectionate, being in love. 

E and I are both very blessed that we have an incredible group of friends and honorary family members that love us both dearly for exactly who we are. We surround ourselves with places, locations, people who don't see gender, race or sexuality, but that is such a small world in the grand scheme of things. I am strong and courageous, but I cannot be strong and courageous in only certain places and situations. Being at a dive bar is easy to find courage when your LGBT, but being out in such a visual place like places such as the State Fair, that is where I fail myself and the courage I so believe myself to have. If E were a man, I know that I would never hesitate for a moment being affectionate in public, but, as she is not, I do. That fear and thought of protection of others builds anxiety inside me. I want to be that light, that hope, that one person that others can see that will give them courage and strength. 

Prejudice is very real. We can shield ourselves and our loved ones from it for a time, but we can never protect them or guard them entirely. You must have a group of friends, family, someone, even if it's just one person, you must have someone that you can be yourself around, but in those moments when you are away from them, when you are surrounded by people who hate and despise you, you must always remain strong and courageous. Be proud of who you are. You are beautiful exactly as you are. 

Reconciling Pain

When you grow up around people whom you love and adore, family, friends, leaders in both the Church and your school, who say that they love and support you no matter what and than... they hear it through the grapevine that you are Queer... hypocrisy and pride shows its evil grasp. I know that these family and friends do love and adore me, yet, the simple fact that whom I choose to love does not match what they would want that is best for me, and yes, I do believe that they still want the best for me, simply stuns me. Mostly because I personally feel, believe and know that today, I am my best self. This is whom I know in my heart and soul that God created.  

Hearing phrases like “lesbians and yahoos”, “the fags are responsible”, “the gay agenda”, “the sick minded homos” and so many more from family members, all who say and whom I know do love the church and the Bible and are very incredible and god-fearing people… made my heart break. Every time I found the courage to say something to my family, a remark was said. Every time I had pumped myself up to speak, something secretly hurtful would hit me on the inside. I felt like I was constantly being buried by my family.

By the time I was 25 and knew, without a shadow of a doubt that I was a lesbian, it was in little passing interactions like these that I remembered my family saying that scared me senseless.  

Coming out to my closest friends when I was 25 was easy… it was living a secret life for two years because I was terrified about what my family would say, think or do that was the most challenging thing. That night when I did tell my folks, was by far the most terrifying thing that I have ever done, but there comes a time when you cannot hold it back. When it does start to eat at you from the inside you must remember this “Be strong and courageous” and time. Give it time. Give them time. Be patient. Be honest. Be open. Be forgiving. Be the better person. Be easy on yourself. Surround yourselves with those that love and support you. Join a support group. Find a therapist that understands the importance of your sexuality and faith. (I recommend www.thechristiancloset.com).

I have come to find out that what most of my family says to me in regards to my sexuality is spoken out of fear. Fear and the ignorance of the unknown. When my mother tells me that “the only thing worse is if I were dead” I know, because I know my Mother, that she couldn’t really mean that. Don’t expect apologies. Another thing that I have come to realize is that I cannot expect an apology from my family or friends who do say painful things. Call them out on it, yet you do not have control over what they say or think. But always try to talk to your family even if they won’t listen.

You are in control of your own life. Be strong and courageous.

I cannot tell you how many times people who are important to me have said things that kill me on the inside and eat away at a very powerful emotional level. Saying things that “I will have to choose between my lifestyle or their family” and then end that sentence with “I love you no matter what”, these are the moments when all I can think of is the story of the Boy Who Cried Wolf and actions speak louder than words. Even after nearly two years of being out to my family, there are still topics that we have not discussed. It will need time. They will need time.

I am sure, confident and proud of who I am as a gay woman, but to them, I am a stranger. Be strong and courageous. Give them time. Be easy on yourself and your heart. God is love. He is love. You are loved. 

Being Both Queer and Christian

When I came out to my conservative Protestant family at the age of 27, there were many thoughts that were rushing through my mind... none of which were very encouraging. Of course there is no way where you can really be certain how your family or friends will process or handle it, everyone is different and so all our stories are different, but for me, I knew my family, I knew what they believed, I knew what their church taught and what they taught me and my three sisters. I think that was the hardest part was the realization that in a way, I still hated myself for being gay. I didn't care what the world said, or what my friends thought, but when it came to my family, my family was my world and never in a million lifetimes would I ever want to say anything that would hurt or harm them in any way.

I went to a Christian school until I was in 6th grade and then, along came junior high and I was thrown into the depth and despair of public school. Now, growing up in a small town (roughly 35,000 people) in north central Texas, where the number of churches sometimes reached even three to a city block and the only restaurant we had was called "Suzanna's Home Country Cookin'", you can imagine that there weren't many gay people that I came in contact with. Well, at least none that I knew. The only thing that I knew of the word "homosexual" was that it was evil and a sin and to never talk about it. I vividly remember a time when I was probably around the age of 8, when our honorary sister/live in nanny mentioned to my Mother that she needed to "look out for me because I was going to be a lesbian" and immediately my Mom nervously brushed her off and moved past it like there was nothing about it.

Besides that, I honestly don't think I remember hearing the words "gay" or "lesbian"... ever. This may seem hard to believe, but in the 90's, we didn't have TV shows like "GLEE", "The Fosters" or "Modern Family" any show that not only had a LGBT character in it, but had them as a character that you loved and sympathized. Things have moved incredibly fast over the past few years, and I thank God every day for it.

Having attended a Christian school, up until Junior High, being a leader of Fellowship of Christian Athletes in High School and Campus Crusade for Christ in College, going on countless mission trips across the world and living this "ideal" Christian life, I was the "perfect" kid of our family of six. I mean, two of my sisters were out drinking and sleeping around. I was the mascot of our high school and the Vice President of student council for goodness sake!

Now, I am a bit of a intellectual and I love a good challenge or conversation, and while I was working on my Bachelors at the University of North Texas, I studied Jewish Studies at a state college as I wanted to study more about God, outside of the New Testament theology that I had grown up with. I have always have a longing and a passion to know God more. From the theology and history to it all. I even took a two week trip to Israel with a Messianic Congregation with Moody Bible Institute in Chicago. I tell you what, I was on fire for God! The only thing missing, was a husband.

As I've mentioned, everyone's stories are different and for me, even though it took years for me to actually place what it was that made those moments when I thought there was something wrong with me, or that I was inadequate for my parents or unworthy of God, I know now that it was just a fear of the realization of who I truly am and who it was that God created me to be. A fear, that was instilled into me by the Church. Intentional or not, it was there, it was alive and it was evil. It was evil to the fact that it instilled in me a feeling that I was intentionally living in sin, instilled in me a fear that if I hugged a woman, even a close friend too long that she would jump back, throw her hands up and yell "A Lesbian!!", a fear that I had to constantly lie to the family, to the people that I loved the most, because I was terrified of hurting them. Of hurting them. Not me. I thought about what their friends would think, what the church members and leaders that I had known for so long would think of them, my parents. That they had failed, that they had somehow hurt or abused me. It is absolutely insane to think, that the fear that I was so worried about in how they would react to me, it was the fear in how they themselves would be impacted by my coming out.

I know, because it is spoken of time after time after time in the Bible, that there is nothing greater than Love. I know, that no matter what my family may think, what my family may do, how friends or relatives may react, I know that I am loved by God. Nothing will ever come between his love, grace and grand plan for my life.

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them. For the Lord your God goes ever with you, he will never leave you or forsake you." - Deuteronomy 31:6