Head vs Heart

What does it mean to be in a real relationship? How does it feel when the decisions you make that used to only effect you, now effect someone that you care deeply for? How do you make a relationship even? Where one persons needs don't outweigh the others? How much do you give up for that person? Should you have to give up something for that person? What does it become selfish and when does it become selfish and when does it become honest?

As for the first time in my life I am in a serious relationship, things about my life and the way that I am begin to come to the surface. I always believed that I was a humble and understanding person that
was easy to trust. I'm semi-attractive I'd like to say, have a nerdy and wise demeanor, can carry on a conversation to anyone about anything, and are always up for a laugh, a cry or an ear to listen too. My interests are SO vast! I love living the city life, but hope to one day be living on some land out in the countryside. I long for adventure and business in my youth, but my heart still yearns for the serenity of the country. I love sci-fi and history, enjoy art and museums, ride horses and shoot guns... I am a woman of this world who has a Masters degree, have lived in places like London, Nairobi and the ever exotic Denver, make it a plan to travel to a new place every year, whether that be a new State Park in the States or visiting a country I've never been too. I'm young, yes, but my life and its experiences are grand and wide.

I love being busy, but at the same time, I don't want every night planned out for me, how can you be spontaneous in that!?

There are so many things that go through your mind when you are realizing that your life is not fully about you anymore. How much do you give up for the one you love? How much compromise is too much? How can you tell if one sacrifices more of herself for the other? How do you keep your own identity and yet grow and become the partner that you are supposed to be? How much do you give up?

My 'Out'iversary Easter

Easter in the Park

Easter Sunday 2015. I told my parents that I was a lesbian. 

Easter Sunday 2016. I went alone to my parents house and remained silent the entire time. 

Easter Sunday 2017. I went to Easter in the Park in Dallas with my girlfriend. 

This past Sunday, I spent an absolutely wonderful and stress free Easter with my girlfriend E and our
friends. That evening, I laid in bed next to E and cried myself to sleep. It's hard to be both overwhelmingly happy with E and at the same time, be in so much pain by my family. 

I went down to my parent's house the Saturday before Easter as I knew I would not be there on Easter Sunday. My sister from Oklahoma and her family were coming down. My older sister is my biggest ally and I adore her and her wonderful, beautiful two sons and her husband. As I received a welcome hug from my father when I arrived, he quickly went to the backyard, leaving me in the front yard with my nephews. I went inside and had to search out my Mom. Giving her a hug, I asked how her back was and she gave me an off the cuff, vague answer. I tried to talk to her about the house and how the roses were looking beautiful this year, how I loved the new kids John Deer electronic car outside, how beautiful of a day it was, how excited I was about my promotion at my job... all these conversations I initiated, all in a matter of minutes. My Mother was not able to carry on a conversation with me. Her depression, her medication abuse, her anger at me, whatever it was, she was unable to focus or unwilling to have a conversation. My Father was nowhere to be seen.

I honestly can't remember how I passed the first few hours. Playing outside with my nephews on the swing set, drinking a beer with my older sister on the front patio talking about E and I and worried about my Mom, walking out in the pasture to pet the horses, all the while, my Mom was inside the house, taking a nap, my father, I'm assuming was still on the back porch somewhere. He made sure he kept his distance. 

My brother-in-law and his eldest son, who is at the fabulous age of four, decided to go fishing. They started loading up the four wheeler and I took my nephew in the house to help his Mom put his boots on. I asked my Father if he wanted to go fishing with us... I honestly cannot remember what his answer was, all I know was that he didn't look at me once and that his answer was negative. What grandfather won't go fishing with his four year old grandson? Seven bass between the three of us and an hour later, we were back at the house. My brother-in-law and I sat in the four-wheeler and talked about life. He asked about E and I and if we had talked about moving in. I said we had and he said that whenever we decided to do that, that he would help me move. 

My older sister and I were in the garage talking about Mom and how concerned we were for her. My Father walked out there to put something in the overflow freezer in there and he said it looked like we were having a serious conversation. My older sister said "We are concerned about Mom". This was the first time that any of us have confronted my Father about my mothers emotional and medical state. This was the first time that we have told him that we see it and we are concerned about our mother. His two eldest children were confronting him and were offering him a chance to join in on what we could do as a family to help. His reply "Love. Just love her. Love. Love." he never stopped but was in constant movement past us. The last "Love" faded as he closed the garage door behind him. As my sister and I stood there, a bit shocked and a bit insulted. All my sisters and I do nothing but love our Mother. We always have and always will. I also couldn't help but think "what a hypocrite". As I had spent my entire Saturday being looked over and ignored by this man, the anger welled up in me.  

As we sat outside on the back porch, eating pork hot dogs (My family is very well aware, that I gave up pork nearly eight years ago). I sat in silence across from my older sister as my parents sat to my right, an empty seat between my Father and I. My Mother sat there, pain in her eyes. I don't know if it was pain from her back, or emotional pain, but I could see it as she tried to smile. I hurriedly ate and then went into the kitchen to clean up the dinner prep. My older sister joined me and we talked about an upcoming concert her and her husband were going too in Oklahoma City. Once again, my parents were nowhere to be seen. I went to search out my Mom, she was laying on her bed with the windows closed and the door shut. I told her I loved her and the I was going to leave. She said she loved me too. My father and brother-in-law were sitting on the front porch laughing and talking as my nephews played with a massive purple ball in the front yard with the dog. I told them I was leaving and my brother-in-law stood up and gave me a big bear hug and said he loved me and that he was looking forward to me coming up to visit them in a few weeks. My Father stood, gave me a light hug and said he loved me. 

I walked through the quiet house and out to the garage. As I got to my car, I turned the ignition on and drove down the long driveway out to the country road. The house that was once so full of light and happiness now has a tense air and darkness around it. The horses look up at me as I drive past them, chewing on the spring grass and flicking their ears at the flies in the sun. 

"hear me out that would be enough... forgiveness. Can you imagine? Forgiveness." A song from the musical Hamilton plays on my speakers. I roll the windows down and take a deep breath. 

Easter Sunday 2017. I wake up with E's arms wrapped around me. "Happy anniversary" she whispers in my ear. Two years to the day I came out to my parents. She gets up and makes coffee, I hear her movements around the house, the lazy Great Pyrenees at the foot of the bed lifts his heavy head and looks into the kitchen and then drops it back on the bed. She brings me coffee in bed and we sit there together talking about the events of the day. My heart is light and I can't help but smile. I am what I am, for better or worse. I will not live the lie I tried to hide for too long from my parents. Their lives are not mine and I have to move on. I must carry on. I must live my life for me and not try to live it for them. The pain I feel because of their looks, their silence, their lack of interest in me, their fear of me and the dread they think I am living in, I do not have control over that and I cannot allow that to have the stronghold over my life. I am so blissfully happy. I am so in love and I am so genuinely me. Just continue to be strong and courageous CJ. Carry on. 

A Plea to my Family

If I could say anything to my family it would be this; 

I am still me. I have not been corrupted by the world or been blinded by Satan. My heart, my soul and my passions are all the same. I still love the outdoors, I still love the creeks, trees, hills and animals of the Texas countryside. I still are a bit obsessed with Lord of the Rings and Star Trek. I still are passionate and aim to put everything I have into serving and being an example for Christ. I do not believe that I am living a selfish life, but are being more open and more genuine of me. I believe that my sexuality and whom I choose to love does not identify me. 

I believe that there are grey areas in the Bible. That a book that is 6,000+ years old cannot be a word for word dictation of what happened so many millennium ago as it has been translated over and over and over and was passed down by word of mouth for thousands of years. Just think of the game 'telephone'. I do believe that the Bible is God breathed and inspired, but I also believe that it was written by men and men are anything but perfect. I do not believe that I am willingly living in sin. I believe that God looks not on the outside, but on the inside. He knows my heart. 

"... let the one who has never sinned
throw the first stone!"

I believe that God is the judge, not us. "... let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!" - John 8:1-11. I believe that showing love, grace and forgiveness to people and accepting them for who they are, even who they believe they are, is more powerful and more Christ-like than trying to show 'tough love' or trying to take the 'high road'. Jesus loved sinners, tax collectors, prostitutes and people of other religions and it is that example of love and inclusion that we must live. 

To my family. I hope and pray, that one day you will be willing to talk with me, with an open mind and an accepting heart. It is so incredibly painful the words and the actions that you have said and spoken over the past few years (I'm sure you would say the same because of me), but I ask that you talk to me. Don't just listen to that one pastor or that one therapist that "used to be gay", but that you will speak to your own flesh and blood, your own daughter about her own life. You have never asked me why or when I "became" a lesbian. You have never asked to know my story, you only make assumptions based on other peoples lives or their experiences. Please, if you read this, please talk to me. I do not want to be attacked, or try to be guilt ridden that I am breaking your heart to try to force me back into the darkness that I was for so long in, in being ashamed of my sexuality. And when I say something, believe me. I have never been molested, raped or attacked; that did not turn me gay. I did not give up on men simply because I had never met a "good one"; I had unbelievable, Godly men in my life and men that I had dated, so believe me when I say it was never a lack of wonderful men in my life. 

All I ask, of you, my family, is to love me for me. That you look beyond the label of Lesbian and see the honest, loving, passionate, nerdy, genuine, family oriented, Me. I am so much more than a label.

Your life is not mine...

My girlfriend lives nearly an hour east from where I am at and my family (most of them) live an hour south of me. Now, this all seems like it would be convenient and easy to get around and see them all, right? I mean, after all it's Texas. You always drive around like mad and when you say how far away something is, you always say how many hours away it is, not how many miles. Well... I have two jobs, a full time, 8-5 job as well as an evening  and occasional weekend part time job. I am also part of the marketing committee for HRC, do my best to go to church on Sundays, hang out with my friends once a week after work and of course, drive over and see E as much as I can. I think it's safe to say... my life is pretty busy.


I have always been this way, just the older I get, the busier I get and the more organized my life has to be. And now that I am in a serious relationship and my schedule has doubled as we both try to be involved and supportive of each other in as much as possible.
I feel like I am a good daughter, sister, Aunt and granddaughter. I work hard to find and make time for my family. I like to think that I show them all love, acceptance and support in everything and that they all know that I am always there for them, in anything and everything. And I like to think they feel the same way about me. But one thing I do know, is that my life; being unmarried with a college degree, no kids, having an apartment on my own, filing for taxes on my own, having close friends and a career that I am passionate about, is something that my family cannot relate too. All three of my sisters were married before they were 23, one was 17. Of course they all have incredible passions, their lives are so full and so beautiful on such a different level than mine. I never, ever want to discredit their lives and their choices and make them all think that mine is somehow greater than theirs, because that simply is not true. We are all on just two different levels, two different plains in life.

E and I after one of her art
installation pieces

In this craziness that is my life, I cherish those sweet moments where E and I can go out together. A calm, romantic dinner out, an afternoon walk, with no time where we have to be back to go to a meeting or an appointment. We are both so blessed to see each other so much, yet it never seems to be enough. I think this is what people call being in love. As E and I are in this beautiful romance, it's hard for us to be recognized as being in a relationship by my family. I believe one of my sisters actually believes in it and in us, but there is still hope and prayers going around that are against us. That we will not be together much longer, that this is just a 'fling', that this is just a way that I am distracting myself from not facing my fall-out from being close to God. To know, honest to goodness know that the thing, the one person, that is making you the happiest in life is not only not approved of, but cannot be spoken about, her name cannot be mentioned or acknowledged, is one of the most painful things I have ever felt.

For nearly five years I willingly lied to my family. I knew that I was a lesbian, but I was so terrified to let them know. That night when I finally told them, even though it was the hardest and most challenging thing of my life, I could literally feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. What I didn't know, was that a brand new form of lying would become at play. More like withholding the truth than lying. When I tell them I am going to Dallas for the weekend instead of going to dinner at my Mothers, there is always a need to justify my actions. There is never the truth such as a "my girlfriend has an art piece that is receiving an award and I am going to support her", there is always "I have already made plans with friends that I can't miss." Things that excite me and make me proud as E and her work, things that I know if I were in a relationship for this long and this seriously with a man and he had achieved this award or were presenting a piece, that there would be questions from my family either what the piece were about or how long did it take to prepare it or even the possibility of them showing up to support him. Because what is important to ones spouse is important to me. I have seen them support and encourage my sisters boyfriends and now husbands. It hurts to not have that interest in my life, solely because the gender of who I care about is not whom they approve. 

These are things that I know will take time and I am working on my patience on that, I am working ever so hard. There are many instances where I could point to, where I could give examples of when I had to keep things vague to make sure that I didn't say E's name. (They all know that we are dating and they do know her name) I do this because to them, when I choose her over them, they make me feel like I am choosing sin and distractions over a god-fearing, good influence of a family.  The guilt and the pain that comes from them is oftentimes unbearable. When there is an invite to a family dinner with my favorite Aunt who loves and supports me fully, from Colorado (who has met E and adores her!), it kills me because all I want is to invite E to the dinner, but I know I can't. There are so many little things that hurt harder and sting stronger than I ever thought would. Moments when I remember years and years ago when I dated a guy for about two weeks and my parents invited him to join us for a family birthday party to the same restaurant... yet, E and I are moving our own plans so that I can go to this family dinner, without her. Someone who is so incredibly important to me, that is not allowed, is not invited, is not thought of as being a genuine part of my life, simply kills me.

Once again, my life is so different from their in so many ways. I am a 30 year old professional, financially independent woman in the deep South, who lives and thrives in the big city, is a creative and who is also a member of the LGBT community. I will do what I believe I do best, which is carry on. Remain strong and courageous and stay true to myself. I will continue to love people in the way that I was brought up to do, with acceptance, humility and no judgment. I will do what I can to be the better person. To strive to remain humble and to work on being more open and clear on things. If this life isn't mine, than whose is it? 

I will carry on loving and supporting my family as well as loving and supporting my girlfriend. I will not go back. I know that what my family say, they say is spoken with love and to "protect" their family... how is this protecting? How does keeping me away from my nieces and nephews, not letting me express and show how happy and fully me I am, forcing me lie openly to the family because they are so scared of what I could be to their way of life. I have no idea what fear they speak of. For if my nieces and nephews were to be introduced to the real world, than I believe, a family member who is sensitive, honest, open, God-fearing and just who happens to be a lesbian would be a perfect way for them to realize that the real world is not a scary place, but a place of love and acceptance. Where you can be true to be yourself, where you let God be the judge and not man, where you have an open mind and an open heart. No matter if I be kept away from my family, I will always do what I can to be an example of love and encouragement to them. 

"This above all. To thine own self be true." - William Shakespeare 

When to Say No

My sisters, my Mother and myself saying
a prayer before my baby sisters wedding.

I've come to realize that I am not a very patient person. I always thought that I was, but over the past two years, I have come to realize that perhaps I am horrible at being patient. I can sit for hours by a lake, with a fishing rod in hand, I can wait for days knowing the first spring rain is on its way to quench the dry Texas ground, I can wait for months knowing my best friend and his fiance will be down to visit me from Seattle... but I cannot wait any longer for my family to realize that nothing on or in this world, made me a lesbian. 

I can no longer listen to my parents and grandmother say that me going off to a State University made me gay, that the bullying I went through in middle school is the reason for my "same sex attraction", I no longer have the patience in constantly telling my Mom and Dad that they didn't do anything to make me the way that I am. I no longer have the patience in trying to convince my family that I am still the same decent, god-fearing, family centered, healthy, generous, loving and independent woman. 

When I came out to my close friends over five years ago, I had never felt more free and genuine in my entire life. I lived three years, in-hiding to my family because I knew exactly what they would think. I knew that they would think it was their fault, that I would somehow be a dangerous influence to my nieces and nephews and that I was willingly living in sin. That Satan had captured me and had his evil hooks in me. "the face of the enemy, he comes to steal, kill and destroy. He is so real and he is the roaring lion of the scriptures. What I am trying to convey is that I have such anger where Satan is so active, you are so precious to me..." It burns and tears my heart hearing the loss and sorrow and darkness that is felt towards me from someone who is supposed to love me unconditionally (of which they said two messages prior). I want to reply back "I'm not a whore! I don't do crack! What's your problem with me?!" 

I'm tired of waiting on my family. My patience in them is gone. Nothing I can do or say sinks in. They have voluntarily chose to set up a battle against me. Let God be the judge. We are called to love, love as Christ has loved us. 

How much longer can my heart and my mind stand up against them? How much longer can I listen to these words of guilt and blame and disgust before I start hating myself again? I will not go back into that depression that I finally escaped from. I will not go back to living a lie so that my parents can not "suffer". They say this is killing them, that this is the hardest thing that they never thought they'd have to face... but what about me? What about knowing that your Mother walks on eggshells around you? What about knowing that your Mother is terrified of asking how you are doing because you might talk about your girlfriend? What about knowing that your father won't make eye contact with you? What about knowing that when your grandmother calls you'll only get preached out, fire and brimstone? How much can you take? How much should you allow yourself to take before you push back? How can you show that it is killing you on the inside, their words and actions, without them saying that that is the Lord telling me that I am sinning? How much? How much patience? 

As I am constantly struggling, I have to remember that I am loved. I know they love me. I know my girlfriend loves me. I have friends and other family members that love me. I am not alone in anything. I much have patience, if not for them, then for myself. I must continue to be strong and courageous. 

"through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." Romans 5: 2-4

The Silverlining to the Storm

Two years ago, when I came out to my family, one of my sisters told me that I would have "to choose between her kids or my lifestyle". My Father, who had recently recovered from two strokes, told me that "I just killed him." As I sat on the couch with both my parents weeping beside me, as my parents prayed to cast demons out of me, said they would be moving me back from my then home in Colorado that next day to living with them and that they would send me to a place in Austin that does "conversion therapy". I sat in total shock and fear. I wanted to take everything I had just said back. I wanted to put my sexuality back in the closet. I wanted to pretend like it never happened, but it had happened and I had been living in hiding from them for my entire life.

When I look back, from conversations over the past two years where I heard things from immediate family members that I was "voluntarily damning myself to hell", that they "would always call it a 'choice' because that's what it is", that they would set "nonnegotiables" rules that I had to follow when I was in their home that showed no display of my homosexuality, that "the only thing that would be worse were if I were dead" and other painful, hurtful things that have never been apologized for, and still sting and burn like a hot iron in my mind and my heart, after two years, it looks like just perhaps my bravery and freedom in being myself, has finally opened up to an sliver of light.

As my birthday comes up next week, my girlfriend E and I are going to Colorado for a long weekend away, my coworkers are taking me to a birthday lunch and happy hour and my three sisters... are taking me out to dinner and have invited me to bring E with me. Two years ago, one sister gave me an ultimatum, my identity in being an openly gay woman, or a relationship with her and her gorgeous children, my nieces and nephews that I am absolutely bats about. Two years ago, one sister told me that she would never agree with me, because the Bible says it is wrong and it will always be a choice for me. That word 'choice' weighs heavy on me and is filled with judgment, and a constant state that I am willfully sinning and that whomever says it, knows they are in the right and are above me. Two years ago, one sister told me that I should have kept it to myself, that I should have not told anyone because that I was the sole reason the family would be torn apart. These three sisters, who didn't understand and never gave me a chance, are now, two years later, voluntarily meeting the woman that I am so in love with.

There are always moments in our lives when we truly feel lucky. When we feel blessed and that good fortune and fate are finally in our way. In the depth of darkness, it's hard to look for the silver lining. All you see are heavy, ominous storm clouds that constantly beat you down. There are so many times when I was done, when I wanted to just call it quits entirely with my family and I thank God that I did not. My family will forever be bound to me, whether for better or worse. What I have come to find is that in those dark, dense moments when thunder crashes and the winds are blowing and howling all around you, that you have to keep going, keep breathing, keep believing, because there is a silver lining. There is a sliver of light that will show just as the storm is about to break and believe me, that storm will break. Perhaps that storm might return and might be just as strong as before or come back with a vengeance, but one thing I know for certain, is just like before, that storm will break. There will come a time where you can breathe freely and stand strong in the sun. Be thankful for every moment my friends. Be proud of who you are. Do not waste another moment hiding who you are, because another moment wasted, is a moment lost. Be strong and courageous my friends.

"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

By the Grace of God, I am what I am

When I came out to my close friends at the age of 25, and my family at the age of 27, I look back now, and try to figure out my story. I look back and try to figure out just when it was when I knew I was a lesbian. Growing up in a time (the 1990's), in a city (Small town Texas - pop. 30,000 and later to a city where the pop was 656), in a family (staunch Baptist), where words like "same-sex marriage", "homosexuality", "gay" and "lesbian", not only were evil words, but were words that were never even spoken. They weren't addressed, they weren't said, they weren't discussed, unless the Pastor was speaking of Sodom and Gomorrah. But even then, it was only the word "homosexuality" and was only spoken of once in the service. Like it was a dirty and vile word that created pain for the one who said it and those that heard it. 

The first time I heard the word "lesbian" was when I was around 8 years old. My god-sisters Mother, who was about 19 at the time, told my Mother to watch me "as she is a lesbian." She did not say it in a condemning way, nor was even meant to be heard by me I believe, but the thing I remember the most was the immediate reaction that my Mother snapped at her. She told her to never say that word again and that she should never say something like that again. That was the first time that I ever heard of the word Lesbian. I had no idea what it meant, but I knew that it was a bad, horrible thing, whatever it was. 

When I was in high school, there were no openly gay kids at my school. It was the early 2000's, but shows like 'Glee' and 'The Fosters' weren't around then. Homosexuality was still something that was taboo, especially in a small town out in rural Texas. I dated a few guys here and there, nothing serious and never anything physical. I found that I never really had any interest to date and I just never really thought of it. After high school I went to Colorado State University. I was quiet, shy, had no idea where to make friends. I wasn't a partyier, but was a theater nerd that loved the outdoors. I went to a Campus Crusade for Christ mixer, because anything Bible was all I knew, the only reason that I went to a church while I was at CSU was the hopes of making friends and meeting a guy to marry. I mean, that's the only reason a woman should go to college is to meet her future husband. (Sarcasm on my part, but I've heard this time and time again by family members.) I made one friend there, W, I thank her all the time for letting me follow her around like Velcro for the next two years. Her friends were my friends, I would go to Thanksgiving with her to her family. Would go to birthday parties and anniversaries. We had so many similar interests. Both country kids with big families, both worked part time jobs and loved snowboarding. We enjoyed the same music, the same food, but unlike me, she was super outgoing and could make more friends than you could shake a stick at! 

Me in NY in 2006

It was in college when I began to see that I was a bit different than the friends I had made. They would flirt with guys (flirting? what is this madness?), would go on dates, talk about them all the time and it seemed like everything came so naturally to them. There were a lot of really incredible, godly and remarkable men that I interacted with on a daily basis, so I know that it was not because of a lack of possible prospects that nothing ever hit off. I just literally had no interest in trying to be anything more than friends with guys. There weren't any red flags that went off in my head saying "CJ, the reason you don't have interest in men is because you're a lesbian!" there weren't any openly gay people that I had met or associated with, that I knew of, there wasn't any discussion on the possibility that you could be gay and Christian, the conversations just weren't there. I think the reason I didn't talk or think about it, was because to me, I knew that it wasn't an option. 

There was one guy while I was at CSU that I did date, for about a month I think. I remember how excited and thrilled my Mother was when I told her. She wanted pictures, wanted to know all about him, about his family, what he was studying etc. The truth was, he was just a good looking guy that I had met in Crusade who seemed to like me. I wasn't attracted to him and I think the main reason I dated him was because I was lonely and I wanted to get family off my back about not dating. My older sister had gotten married as well as one of my younger sisters and so, the pressure for me to find a husband was heavy on me. This sounds so 1950's, but being one of four girls in a small town in the South, to this day, that is still the expectation and the mindset. That relationship went short and there were loads of reasons why I never got 100% intimate with him. A general lack of attraction and the thought of 'it' just grossed me out. I had to work very hard to make myself attracted to any of the guys that I had ever kissed or tried to be intimate with. That was the only person that I dated through all four years in college. My friend W's cousin and I really got a long and we hung out a lot, and once a few pictures of us together ended up on Myspace (yes, I was in college before Facebook came around), my Mom just assumed we were dating and went with it. It was here in College that I began to journal extensively.

My Junior year I ended up back in Texas at University of North Texas due to financial reasons and because I felt like I needed to be back closer to my family as there were family issues going on. It was when I moved to UNT when I began to think that the reason that I was not interested in men was because I was asexual. I must not have a sex drive at all to not be attracted to men. Once again, there was no other options available. Looking back now at some of the entries in my journal, I realized how much emotional pain I was in and how much torment I was putting myself in due to me not even thinking that I could be with women. I would rather be in a self-destructive mode to protect my family and friends than accept what I was so afraid of. 

I used to avoid touching people, specifically women, because I

didn't want them to think I was hitting on them. When I'd go to a friends house, I'd sit on a bar stool or on the recliner to avoid the chance of friends that were girls sitting beside me, afraid that if our legs touched that they would look at me and know I was a lesbian. I intentionally didn't hug people, hold hands, pat people on the back or do any other form of physical contact because I was so afraid that people would assume that I was flirting with them. This was before I even allowed myself the option of being a lesbian. I just thought that either everyone thinks this way, or that there was something wrong with me. I avoided discussions about dating or who I was or wasn't interested in. Being in my early 20's, a college graduate and still single was something that my family could not understand. I moved to London, England for two years and it was there, away from my family, from the judging eyes of Southern USA, when I began to even give it the option that maybe there was another option. I still did not date while I was in London, nor did I talk to anyone about my feelings, but I began to allow myself the freedom to relax around women, to be more open and more myself. I think it was here, in 2011/2012 when I wrote in my journal that perhaps I was gay. I didn't push it or go any further, but when I moved back to Texas after two incredible years in London, the realization of my sexuality hit me like a ton of bricks. 

I joined Match.com and had two profiles. One was that I was interested in Men and the other where I was interested in Women. I was back in Texas and the DFW area was like a beacon of light. After many months, I had two dates two weeks apart, the first was with a guy and the other with a gal. A few days before I were to meet the man, I canceled. I cancelled because I literally had zero interest to meet him. I was not excited or nervous or anything, just knew that I didn't want it to go anywhere and so I didn't even get it to start. Then, in the fall of 2012, I went on my first date with a woman. We met a cafe/restaurant in Ft. Worth and I had never been more nervous and excited in my entire life. We sat and talked for five hours and I don't think I had ever been on a more wonderful date in my life. It was so natural, so easy. Unlike any other dates that I have ever been on. When we got to my car, we kissed. That was my first kiss with a woman and the feelings that were so drastic and so overpowering were incredible. One simple kiss was like a lightning bolt, it was like a light switch had clicked on, like all the blanks that I had in my life had been filled in. I knew, in that instant, that the years and years of torment and questioning were true. That I could be attracted to someone, easily and naturally, it's just that that person, happened to be a woman. It was time, for the first time in my life that I admitted to myself, I was a lesbian. 

I don't remember the drive back to my duplex, that 45 minute drive was all a blur. What I do remember was getting back to my flat and pacing in my bedroom. I wrote in my journal and started to cry. I had to tell someone. I called my dear friend J, an old friend from high school who had come out to me about three years prior and was living with his now husband in Cali. I vividly remember the amount of tears that streamed down my face when I told him that I had just gone a date with a women and that we had kissed and that I was a lesbian. I vividly remember what felt like a physical weight was lifted off my shoulders as I told him. I vividly remember the total feeling of Freedom as I paced in my room, crying and laughing constantly telling him "these are happy tears". He was not surprised in the least bit. Haha. Then I called my oldest friend G. As I continued to cry happy tears and laugh, he said he was so proud of me and has known it for the past twenty years! I then called my friend L, in Atlanta and told her, she just laughed and said "I knew it! I knew it!".

Those few people, some of my dearest and closest friends, who were all so proud and so happy for me, who were all there with support and encouragement and talked to me and listened to me for over two years and I struggled with how to tell my family. Those three friends made a lifetime of confusion, self doubt, fear, feelings of seclusion and self loathing, blow away in an instant.

Looking back now, I know that if I had had one positive experience with what being gay actually was, if there were films or TV shows or conversations at school or church, if my folks had spoken about that some people are attracted to people of their same sex, that there were songs that said it's ok to be who you are to be how you were born... what a different life and different experiences I could have had. I thank God everyday now that the LGBTQ community is out there and in the mainstream media and has a presence on TV, in Films and in songs. That people are celebrating diversity and highlighting inclusion. I of course fear with how things will turn out in my state as there are countless anti-LGBTQ bills trying to be passed as well as the next four years for our country, but I am focusing on where we've come as a nation and as a people. 

There are many, many more stories and moments in my life that constantly confirm without a doubt in my mind that I am a lesbian, but more than the experiences, it is the feelings that my heart, mind and body feel that do not lie. I am no longer ashamed or afraid to identify as I once was. Perhaps one day my family will be as excited and happy about my girlfriend that I adore, that they were about the guys that I unhappily dated for their sake. But no matter what, I know who I am and I am proud of who I am and I will not go back into the closet for the sake of anyone. 

1 Corinthians 15:10a "But by the grace of God I am what I am..."

A song from the fabulous Gaga: Born This Way

Why I Marched

January 21st, 2017. A day that will now go down in history as one of the largest protests in the history of the United States. People may forget the date, but they'll never forget the reasons.


These are the reasons why I marched.

I marched for my 93 year old great-grandmother, my grandmother, my mother, my three sisters, my nieces and my love E. I marched for the women that are the most important in my life. 

I also marched for my Muslim friend Ami and the love and peace that is shared between her and her husband. I marched for one of my best friends who is a transitioned trans-man and the fears that he has shared with me in something so simple as using the restroom in public. I marched for one of my oldest friends J and his husband. I marched for one of my closest friends who has been raped and for years was to terrified to tell anyone for fear that she wouldn't be believed. I marched for the countless other women and men who have been molested and raped and the fear that grips them. I marched for my Moms sister who was kidnapped and murdered and the life she never got to experience. I march for one of my African-American coworkers Father who gets threatened by the KKK on his postal route everyday. I marched for the countless first generation Mexican-American friends and coworkers and the beauty that their lives and their culture brings to this country. I marched because I was bullied through middle school and high school and it pains me to see a bully get off scot-free. I march for my girlfriend E and I's future and what this world might look like for us. I march for women who marry young because that is what society tells them to do. I marched for women who did not march, because they were scared of being judged by their husband and family. I marched for middle class, healthy stay at home mothers - I marched for the future of your children. I marched for women who have never experienced sexism, racism, bigotry, homophobic slurs and are therefore are so distant to understanding. I marched because I have the love and compassion of God in me and I know that the greatest commandment is to love. I marched because I grew up learning about the strong women of the Bible and that Esther would be marching right there with me. I marched for the single mother. I marched for the single father. I marched for the Suffragettes in history and their legacy. I marched against the sexism that I see everyday in the corporate world that I work in. I marched for women who have regrets in life, experience and love. I marched for women of every color, every religion and every sexual orientation.

To those who believe that I marched out of anger and hate. I want to tell you this. I did not march out of hate or anger against anyone, but I marched out of love and compassion for everyone.

Getting Political for Love

I never thought I'd call myself political. It was not something my family ever talked about and even when I got in college, the 'issue' of politics was something that always seemed beyond me. It was something that only the really educated would be interested in. Only the ones in politics would want to know or should inquire into anything political. But me, I studied literature, I was a writer, a storyteller, politics was all facts and figures and serious. Everything I wasn't. 

I became more aware of the importance of politics, especially as Americans, the more I traveled around this grand world of ours. I saw the grandeur of what was once an incredible and world powerful political country when I was in Paris, I saw the ancient politics when I was in Jerusalem, I saw what truly corrupt politics was when I was in Nairobi and the more that I travel in the States, I saw the beauty and more than anything, the uniqueness of American Democracy. It was when I saw the way these other countries had been and were run that I saw the difference and saw the importance of the way this great Nation is run. When I was in College, I wasn't political. When I was in Graduate School, I wasn't political. When I was working on my career, I wasn't political. It took me nearly 28 years to get political. 

When I came out to my parents two years ago, I remember telling them that I wouldn't "March on
Washington" or "Burn my bra" or "Shave my head." I didn't want them to associate me, the daughter that they've always known was "that" kind of lesbian. When the horrific massacre at Pulse Night Club in Florida happened over six months ago, for the first time in my life, I felt the pain and personal attack on myself and so many that I loved. I had never truly felt associated with a minority group, until that event. The constant and now building momentum of hate in our country and the recent elections of 2016, has stirred a fire in me that hits me personally. First off, as a Woman and additionally as a Lesbian. Even though I will not be one of the hundreds of thousands of men and women who will be Marching on Washington on January 21st, I have donated to the cause, even though I have not burned my bra, I have become more vocal and more outspoken for women's rights, and have joined the HRC (Human Rights Campaign) DFW branch and even though I will never shave my head, I am aware and sensitive to other LGBT individuals and see the beauty and the power in self-identification and self-liberation. 

Life has made me political. 

I am beyond blessed and still in utter amazement that I am falling head over heels for this incredible woman that fate threw in my path. E fought the fight for LGBT and Women's rights nearly 15 years ago, and what seemed to be so much progress in this great country of ours since then. Marriage equality and a closing gap in the gender pay scale, these are incredible, civil and human rights that we have achieved, but now with the threat to Same Sex Marriages and a President and staff who openly speak out against women's rights and all minorities, E and I are now having to fight for our rights, but this time we are fighting together. 

Love has made me brave.

Now, I no longer skate through life, unaware of what is going on around me, unsure and unknowing because I thought the goings on in Washington were too far beyond the life of this small-town Texan, I stand bravely, I fight fiercely, I speak wisely, I dream hopefully. I look for the silver-linings in every situation. I am finding my voice. Now, is the time that we must be strong and courageous. Now is the time that we all come together and look past our differences, not just for what is going on in our own lives, but for the millions and millions of Americans that we share this great country with. Do not be downhearted friends. Do not loose hope reader. This is not just for the Queer Americans, the African Americans, the Muslim Americans, the Mexican Americans or any other minority, but for ALL Americans. We are all in this together. Find your voice. Volunteer. Give courage. Speak hope. I am not alone. You are not alone. You are beautiful and you are loved. Now is the time to brave!

"Real courage is when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it though no matter what." - Harper Lee 

No One to Blame

It has been nearly two years since I have come out to my family, five years since I have come out to my closest friends and nearly ten years since I have come out to myself. The conversations, or lack of, that I have had with my family about my sexuality is probably one of the hardest things that I have ever had to deal with.

When I came out, there was a lot of blaming, not me, no one blamed me, but my parents blamed themselves. My Dad blamed himself for failing as a father (which is nonsense in so many ways!) and not being a good example of what a husband should be. He also prayed to cast out demons and that Satan would leave me. My mother, never really said much, she sat beside me and cried. Only later did she ask if I had been molested or raped, of which I have not. I am sure that to this day she does not believe me. Finding a reason, finding a cause is easier than believing that someone you love so much is also something you abhor so much. Your daughter who you taught to love and show grace, turns out to be attracted of someone of the same sex as her. When it comes down to it, there is a longing for someone or something to blame for my homosexuality in my family. To my folks, it simply is not something you are born with. It a decision, a choice and if I choose to live with a same sex attraction, then it must be that I have voluntarily chosen to live a life of sin. 

One of the most difficult things for me when it comes to my parents disgust and disapproval of me being a Lesbian, is the general lack of asking me questions. It is so hard for me to talk to them, especially my Dad, as he always turns it back around to religion, he always turns it back to him messing up somehow as a father. All I want to tell him is "Dad, you did not do anything to make me this way. This is who I am. I have always been gay, I just never had the courage to tell you. The reason that I did two years ago, was because I wanted to stop hiding and stop lying to you. I am happy, I am loved, I am free and fully myself. I still love God and I still love the Word. Whom I love has nothing to do with you and Mom. This is me. I will not change, because I physically can't change. Believe me, I tried! Love me for me. Be happy that I am happy. Don't blame yourself for something you had no control over!" I hope that one day I will find the courage to say these words, that I will be able to confront him with grace and clarity and that he will listen with an open heart. I am still his daughter, I am still the outgoing, camping daughter that he knew as a child. It is seeing me in a totally different light, that I am someone so unknown and so unfamiliar to them that kills me. Whenever I tell them that I am happy and doing well, they don't believe me. When they ask how I am and I say that E and I have a trip planned to Colorado for my birthday that I am very excited for, they don't respond but change the topic. When I try to have actual conversations about who I really am, when I finally get brave enough to talk about my life and my real life, they shy away... now, topics about my life are just avoided entirely. We stick to topics of work, my cat and my sisters. 

My sisters and I...
I'm in the glassses

My three sisters have each made progress in "coming to terms" with me being a Lesbian. Some faster than others, but they have all come to see that it is still me. That I am still the incredible sister and the awesomest (spell check doesn't like that word) Aunt that there ever was! That I still love them in the same way and that we have actually become more open with each other over the past year as conversations have been had between us, not many mind you, but some have been had and our relationships have grown so much stronger. My parents on the other hand... mine and my Mothers have grown more awkward and uncomfortable, like walking on egg shells and mine and my Fathers relationship has become nearly non-existent. 

It is a constant challenge that I face, and I know a lot of LGBTQ individuals likewise face, is in which direction they should take their relationship with their family. Should I show tough love and say "either accept me or I'm done with you!"? Should I show grace and let them insult me and not accept me in my entirety, yet still try to have a relationship with them? (This is what I am doing now and after two years... I think it's about time I try another approach). Should I just give them total space, no contact for a month, six months, a year or maybe more until they realize that they'll have to choose between a relationship with me or their own pride? I wish I knew the answer to these questions. I wish I could give advice into every Queer individual and tell them and myself, exactly what they need to do and say to their family and friends so that they can be accepted and loved by being themselves. Unfortunately, this is not the way that life works, this is not the way any matter works. Time is a bitter sweet reality. 

There is no one and nothing to blame for you being who you are reader. Whether that be gay, lesbian, straight, bi, trans, asexual or any other sexual identity. You are you. You were born the way you are. Be proud of who you are, even if no one will understand or listen. Know that no one can tell you the way you are handling your own coming out is the correct or the incorrect way. You know you best, so listen to your heart and your mind. Do what feels right and what your heart and soul are leading you too. Pray and reflect. Be humble and ask for advice. Be strong and courageous. You are never alone. 

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." - 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

Allowing Myself the Freedom of Being Queer

"I can't change even if I tried, even if I wanted to..." The lyrics of Mary Lambert's song She Keeps Me Warm, ring in my ears. I am one of the many LGBTQ individuals who have tried to not be who they are. Who have hidden from their true identity for one reason or another. As I look back at the past two years since I've come out, it is not the difference in my mindset about myself or about other Queer people that surprises me, it is not the warmth and welcoming nature of the LGBTQ Community in my City that inspires me, it is not the hurt and uncertainty in the love of my family that scares me, but it is the realization that I have been ME for my entire life but I am just now fully finding my full self, that I reflect on.

My sisters and I at my sisters wedding.
I am on the far left. 

My personality has not changed, it has just become more full. My appearance has not changed, it has just become more comfortable and familiar. One of the many things that I look back at my own life
and realize how much I tried to not be who I knew I was for a straight up feeling of solid fear, was by the clothes that I wore. With three sisters, all who were very straight and were very fashionable, this athletic, outdoorsy, closeted Lesbian in a small town in Texas was very much aware of how she looked. Even in high school, I remember trying on clothes at a department store thinking, "I can't wear that, people will think I'm a lesbian." Or trying on a pair of pants that I loved, but getting them in a smaller size so that they fit more snug, not wanting people to think that I was a lesbian because my jeans weren't skin tight. Granted, this was the early 2000's and so super tight, low fitting jeans were the thing. So... for this modest, un-admitted lesbian, that was not ideal, but... that was what all my straight friends wore, all my sisters wore and what my Mother bought me so... that is what I wore. I vividly remember being in my room every single day of high school looking at my clothes thinking "I can't wear that to school because people will talk..." I remember being actually scared about wearing slacks to my older sisters wedding rehearsal because I didn't want people to think I was a lesbian. I wore a dress to the event. I wore the same two dresses to every wedding, night out or funeral for years, even into my college years.

The amount of anxiety and tormenting stress and pain that I put on myself everyday for years was immense. Looking back at those years, it kills me knowing that I put myself through so much hurt. Of course, in my case, I am a lesbian and so those assumptions that were or were not made were correct and I could have saved years of internal torment but... I would not allow myself the freedom of being Queer. To me, at that time, the internal debate, fear and anxiety of confining myself to things as simple (at least to what I rationalized as simple) as clothing, was worth it for the sake of my family. But even for the immense love, and passion that I have, or that anyone has towards their family, is not worth the battle and the fighting within. Self-destruction goes nowhere but down, deep and dark.

I thank God everyday that I found the courage to come out to my family. In high school, I would not allow myself to be gay. I believed that for me, there was no other option besides men, so I believed that I must be either asexual, have no sex-drive or that there was something wrong with me. In college, after trying SO hard to be straight, I dated a few guys here and there, grew my hair out long to keep my family off my back (I know loads of lesbians with long hair so there goes that effort) and began to have the thought that I was a lesbian, but I continued to try to be straight. After college, I went on my first date with a woman. Had my first kiss with a woman and instantly I knew, there was not a shadow of a doubt, that "I can't change even if I tried, even if I wanted to..." The years and years and years of torment and hiding and fighting myself, faded away. I knew that there wasn't anything wrong with me, there was nothing wrong with me! I had just been trying to be someone that I was not!

About a year ago, I donated those two dresses. Today, I dress the way I want to dress, I wear my hair the way I want to wear it. I feel safe and secure in my skin. If people want to assume that I'm a lesbian, let them assume, they'll be correct! There is hardly anything as destructive as our own inner demons.

Not all girls who play softball are lesbians, not all women who wear pink and have long hair are straight. These stigmas of what we have created in our society are sick and corrupt. Of course, stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason. E wears a carabiner with her keys on her belt and a pocket knife everyday and I wear a lot of sweaters and drive a Subaru. Some things are true... but we can't fall into the grasps of those stereotypes. Just because you are gay or straight, lesbian or bi, don't try to be anything that you are not, don't change who you are, find who you are the most comfortable being, who is true to yourself and be that person. You are you. You are incredible. You are beautiful. You are confident. You are free. You be strong and proud of what you have overcome and where you are going. Set those physical, emotional and spiritual goals and look back at the year and find the silver linings. It's a brand new year my friend. A solid year of chances and opportunities. Find those opportunities to be brave. You will only have that moment once.

"Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake." - Victor Hugo