fear (fîr) – A feeling of agitation and anxiety caused by the presence or imminence of danger. A feeling of disquiet or apprehension.
I have spent most of my life in fear… Of not being good enough Of not getting out of a this stifling town Of not getting what I want Of roaches Of being taken advantage of Of loving too hard Of getting hurt mentally and physically Of rejection Of spiders Of letting people down Of not living up to expectations Of my health Of growing older and not wiser Of being alone…
I'm sure there are a million other things I've been scared of…too many to list. And now, on the precipice of joining my life with you, I can say that I have no fear. I'm excited, but not fearful. I'm too happy to allow fear in.
I think my most favorite part of the day is when I get to see you fall asleep…. Combating slumber like a warrior until you finally lose the battle and your eyelashes rest against your cheeks… Hearing your breathing slow down and turn into a rhythmic in and out sound that lulls me into a sleep myself… Feeling you wiggle against me when you roll over and put your backside against mine… And hearing you whisper back when I tell you that I love you.. this little night-time ritual feeds my soul.
My life before you, as you know, was hard, strange, difficult, and stressful. And while there were definitely bright moments, I can certainly tell the difference between my life with you and my life without you.
My life now is less complicated, content, fun, complete, and enjoyable. It's full of laughter and giggles. It's not always easy, but at the end of the day, I know you love me more than anything… just the way that I love you.
And I take extreme joy in the notion that I'm going to spend every night and every day with you. Growing, learning, loving, and being with you. My life is so full of quiet contentment that I don't have any room for nervousness or fear…
Not about us, anyway.
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Why do you insist on hurting me? Why can't you just be happy that I've found someone who loves me? Someone who cherishes me the way you weren't? Why can't you swallow your pride, lift your chin, and just be proud that I'm not listening to everyone else's opinions and that I'm living my life for me?
You always told me, growing up, to ignore what other people said to and about me. That if they didn't have anything nice to say about me, they shouldn't be talking. And now, you're the one I have to ignore. Your voice is the one I have to drown out.
But, truthfully, your mother's voice is one that doesn't just speak to your ears. Your mother's voice carries right to your heart. You can't turn off the hearing in your heart. It hears all the things that are said and most of the ones that aren't. It pays attention to facial expressions and changes in tone. It's sensitive to all the nuances of pronunciation and intonation. And my heart hears everything you say…and everything you don't.
You don't have to tell me you hate me…your voice does it for you. You don't have to tell me about the shame you feel when someone asks about your daughter, Emily…your face says it all. You don't have to articulate how disappointed and embarrassed you are that you have a gay daughter…the words you don't speak are loud and clear to my heart.
There's an old saying, "Actions speak louder than words." When you don't come to my wedding…I'll hear you. And if you do come, my heart will know you're there just because you don't want everyone else to talk about how you weren't there. And that the whole time you're here, you'll be praying that no one else sees you.
And you won't cry when I walk down the aisle because you're happy…you'll cry because I'm not walking towards a man. Or perhaps you won't cry at all. The reason won't matter…your tears won't be for the positive changes in my life. They will be the result of your negative attitude and closed mind.
And I'll say it doesn't matter. And I'll pretend it doesn't hurt. And I'll tell you, when you call and say you're not coming, that it's fine and I understand. But really, my heart says for me the things my mouth can't. My heart will break. And it will ache. And it will scream, "Why can't you just fucking love me?" And I'll cry. And I'll wonder what I did wrong. And that little raw spot in my being that you love rubbing against will again be sore and sting.
When I walk down the aisle, I'll cry, too. And most of those tears will be from happiness. But some of them will originate in the place where you've hurt me the most…my soul. The absence of your acceptance is harder to handle than you think. And on the most important day of my life to this point…..my wedding day…..the absence of your love will almost kill the joy of my special day.
Sure, I'll tell people that I'm fine with it. I'll defiantly tell them that I'd rather not have you there if you can't be totally happy for me. And that it doesn't matter if you're there or not, I'll be happy regardless. And I'll smile as I say it. And I'll laugh and joke and giggle. And I'll look good in pictures. And I'll dance, and sing, and we'll have a wonderful day…without you. But somewhere deep down…where no one else can go….where no one else can see….my spirit will wonder exactly what I've done to earn your disgust. What, in my essence or nature or character, is so wrong that I've managed to lose significance in your life. "Why," it will ask, "cant they just love me?"
Since the day I came out to you, September 13, 1999, I haven't had an answer. And on my big day, I won't get one, either. And I'll say today, on that day, and for the rest of my life that it doesn't matter what you think of me….
But it does. And it always will.
Originally written in 2003….
Out…and proud of it Not afraid to hold my hand in public Romantic Funny Charming without being.."pushy" Not prone to violence, but sticks up for herself Femme/butch/between..doesn't matter Gainfully employed Good sense of self Not afraid to show emotion or lust Passionate Has good manners Knows how to treat a woman Can compromise Has her own friends outside of our relationship Basketball lover Family oriented Would like to get married/have a ceremony Should like to read my fics Should think I'm the best thing that's ever happened to her
As I've gotten older, I've developed the notion that strength comes from within. And while this is a truth that is unaffected by race, gender, nationality, religion, orientation, or any other situation in one's life, I've come to know that, most of the time, strength comes from those around me. From these people – those select few I choose to keep close to my heart – I learn more than skills and habits. They teach me to challenge my opinions, expand my abilities, and evolve my beliefs. They have faith in my ideas, validate my being, build or maintain my self-esteem, give me someone to admire, and encourage me to dream the impossible. They act as examples to my aspirations, or as my own personal cheering section on this rise to a height I could only imagine on my own. They cheer with me, for me, and beside me. They support most of my whims and the majority of my schemes. They bring me back to reality and yet, take me to surreal places every time I turn around. They are my building blocks, foundational stones, and the sculptors of a great monument to humanity – me. They are vital, invariable, and are forever carved into the base of my very existence.
They are known as my friends…and you are one of them.
Love you all.
She will never be the league’s “face”…she doesn’t have the face for it, frankly. She will never be an overwhelming fan favorite, though the fans that do follow her game are very loyal. She’s not the smartest, most out-going, or charismatic. And she looks horrible in her “away” jersey…her skin tone doesn’t have the ability to carry off that color!
She’s a “support” player, not a “game-changer”. She’s not “amazing” but can be “clutch”. She’s not “explosive” but has been “on fire”. She’s “great in the paint” even though she rarely “shoots off the dribble”. And although she hits the ground a lot, the free throws she gets often barely hit the net when they go through.
She’s tall and short, solid and fluid, big and small, depending on whom you ask. She doesn’t hesitate, give excuses, or take her life for granted. She knows she’s blessed, still gets the chills when someone asks for her autograph, and can’t stop smiling even after the pictures are taken. She remembers what “dating” was like, is kinda sure she still knows how to kiss, and dances with abandon because she forgets she’s not in the locker room with her friends. There are private jokes, outrageous pranks, and more secrets than any society of any kind.
And I see her.
The shy smile, the looking away, the blushing, and the genuine, “Thank you.” She shrugs when you ask how she’s feeling and rarely complains. She laughs when you ask what it’s like to stand in the shadow of someone a foot shorter. She giggles when you ask what it’s like to defend against someone a foot taller. She knows people come to see her play… but is still tickled when people come to see HER play.
Her posture is relaxed, her gait is unhurried, her stride is long…but she puts an arm around a friend, slows down when necessary, and takes “baby-ish” steps so folks can keep up. She doesn’t run the court, the floor, or the show. She laughs easily, doesn’t mind being picked on, and giggles at everything she finds funny (even if she’s the only one laughing). She shares her life, her stories, and her fries. She’s got a smile that could go without notice, eyes that light up if you’re paying attention, and a laugh that's soft but infectious. And she’s evolved her “trash talk” from talking about “ya mama”, “ya boy”, and “ya girlfriend” to being about “ya knees”, “ya back”, and “ya ass”.
Yeah, okay…so what’s-her-name can dunk…But she can’t pass the ball to herself. And so-and-so’s averaging 30 points a game…But she can’t stop defenders who tower over her. And yeah, I see that “star” and how she shoots 70%+ from behind the arc…But you can’t win a game from way out there.
No, she’s not the face that stands out in the crowd. But it’s her face I look for, her defense I clap for, her eyes I watch when the pressure is on. She’s aggressive but with a soft touch. She’s dynamic but stands in the back. She’s the underdog, the “support”, the “backbone”, the silent legs that hold that up the pedestal that carries the “star”.
Oh, yes. I see you, Ma’.
Keep smiling. Keep blocking. Keep holding. Keep running. Keep playing. You are not invisible. You will not be forgotten. You are appreciated. You are strong. You are mighty. You are amazing.
And you’re my favorite.
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