Posts from the ‘Holidays’ Category

My Birthday Wish: You.

I’ve never struggled with what I want for my birthday. I’ve always known. Which is why I hate making birthday and Christmas lists, because what I want isn’t something I can really put on a list.

I want you. Here.

I want to spend time with you.

I don’t want to feel an absence when all I want in the world is your presence.

I don’t want to plan a day filled with time instead of people.

How do I put that on I list? How do I ask for the impossible? You have lives. You have jobs. Your world does not revolve around me and I don’t believe it should! But that doesn’t change that the thing that tops my birthday list is YOU. Your smiles and your laughter. Your hugs and your voice. Your pitch-perfect renditions of the birthday song and your off-key belting of it. Your love.  I want a day and a heart full of the people who I love best.

So, what’s the solution?

Well, for those of you who’ve been around the block with me a time or two know what I’m going to ask you to do. I’ve done it before. I’ll probably do it again. You ready?

Call me. Only for a minute or two, I know you’re busy.

Yup. That’s it.

I know you can’t be here. I know my birthday wish is pie-in-the-sky high. Everyone I love? In one place? I must be crazy. So, I’m asking for the slightly inconvenient, but hopefully doable.

Because then, I’ll still get to spend a little time with you. I’ll get to hear your voice and that’s ALMOST as good as getting a hug. I’ll hear the background noises and get a sense of your life that’s slightly more full than I can get through e-mail or text. I’ll get to hear love and laughter. I’ll get to hear one of the most important voices in my world.

Don’t have my phone number? Message me! If you’re seeing this, you have access to my facebook, twitter, tumblr and/or blog e-mail. Send me a private message. I’ll happily reply. And next Wednesday, July 2, I’ll hopefully get a call. And hear a voice. And know you’re there. (Please keep in mind, I live in Colorado, USA. UTC -7)

It won’t be perfect. It won’t be exact.

But it will be just enough.


Terrified, but ready.

Before you read this, please be aware: I am TRUSTING you with this.  And I have every faith in you that you are worthy of that trust.  Please don’t break that trust without serious consideration.


You know, I’ve been trying to find the right time to tell you this.  I’ve been waiting until life isn’t so crazy, when you’ll have time to work through the shock with all your brain instead of being distracted.  It’s not that I wanted your full attention, per say (in fact, this might have been a lot easier if I didn’t have your full attention), it’s that I didn’t want you to feel like I was rushing this moment for you.  You deserve the chance to process and ask questions when you’re ready and not a moment before.  But, in searching for the right time, I’ve realized there isn’t one. Not with news this big.

This sounds so serious, doesn’t it?  I guess it is.  It’s less of a big deal for me because, well, you’re not the first person I’ve told.  I’ve been talking with my friends for half a year and with my family for months, too.  I’ve talked to a select group of church friends and my clergyman.  And I’ve been living with this for years on my own, so it just feels like my every day life.  Except, admittedly, more terrifying now that I’m starting this dialogue.

I’m Bi-Sexual.

I know.  I’ll give you a moment to decide what you do next.  Breathe, process, PLEASE think before you respond.

Ready?  Are you okay?  Any questions yet?  Well, I hope you’ll let me finish first.  I might answer some of your questions.

First of all, I’m sorry you had to find out this way, whether it was because you follow this blog or because I posted the link on my Facebook and let it go from there.  I probably should have called.  I probably should have done a LOT of things.  I’ve spent months trying to figure out who I needed to tell face to face and the fact is, if this were a perfect world, I’d tell you ALL face to face.  Even the strangers who may be reading this.  (Please, share this with someone, if you think it will help.  I’m out.  It’s done.  I can’t and don’t want to take it back.)

But the world isn’t perfect.  It’s spread out all over.  It’s so spread out that the first half dozen times I came out were over the phone.  My best friend, who is one of the few people PERFECTLY equipped to understand what I am going through, had to find out via e-mail.  It was awful, to be so physically alone during that.  After all, when revealing something so intensely personal about one’s self, the best reassurance of love is touch.  At least it is for me.  I was terrified and horrifically lonely.  I’m so sorry if, by coming out this way, I’ve made you feel like I did those first few hours and days.

I’m really hoping you won’t be shocked.  I mean, you’ve known me for a while now.  And I never try to be anything other than honest.  I guess I just figured that this was my business and no one else’s.  After all, it’s my life and love.  But, at the same time, sometimes I feel like I’m surrounded by misconception.  Misconceptions that I have the power to change by being more open and honest than I ever have before.  I’ve been Bi and me for a long time – I’m no different because I’ve said it to you out loud, even though I completely understand if you see me differently . . . at least for a while.

Regardless of surprise or non-surprise, it’s the truth.  Please don’t feel like I’m asking you to accept this and just move on.  It’s taken me years to get the point where I was ready to share this part of me.  You’ll be fine, it’ll just take some time.  And I am willing to wait that time.

I can’t really tell you when I realized I was Bi completely because I was so medicated for so long.  I didn’t know what was me, what was medication, what was wild imagination, and what was latent tendency coming forward.  Suffice it to say, it’s been at least a few years since I realized I was attracted to women and men.  I’ve even fallen in and out of love with a woman, but it happened when I was so new and unsure of this part of me that I never did anything about it.  That was probably a good thing, as I wouldn’t have had any idea what I was doing and would have hurt us both a lot.

I guess it’s worth you asking why I’m coming out now.  First: I chose today because it’s a new year.  Best time to start a new phase in life.  But as to why I chose to start this process back in June, there were a lot of reasons.  I was tired of tiptoeing around the issue when related topics came up, the American presidential election was going to be filled with discussions about this and I felt like I had something to add, I was starting to feel like I was stifling myself, and the list goes on, full of trivial and not-so-trivial reasons.  Chief among them was because a lot of people don’t realize the immediacy of the LGBTQIA community.  For a lot of people, it’s something far away and not understood.  That’s where the misconceptions come from.  But I’m right here.

I’m here and willing to help you understand.  That’s why I’m coming out.  Because it hurts to see so many of my friends and neighbors in ignorance that I could be actively helping dissipate.  And yes, those comments some of you make?  Those hurt, too.  I’m hoping by being open I’ll inspire kinder behavior from my friends on ALL sides of the issue.

So what does this mean for me?  Not much.  Like I said, I’ve been living with this for years, quietly.  I think the biggest difference is that I am opening myself up for these frightening questions, as well as the few who will hate me on principle.  That’s going to be hard.  I won’t be running out to date women because the social groups that I am happy in don’t provide a whole lot of opportunities in that direction.  For right now, I feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be.  If things change, they change.  But I won’t be actively seeking a female partner just because I’m being open with you  about something I’ve known about myself for years now.

Yes, I know this is going to be hard for me.  I live in one of the most conservative cities in the US (Colorado Springs), I am a devoutly practicing member of one of the most conservative religions in the world (LDS (Mormon)), and I work in one of the most conservative cultures there is (rodeo).  I am no stranger to the fact that this is going to be difficult.  But that’s why I have to come out, you see?  If I – an active member of these communities – can’t tell people who and what I am, if I can’t help them understand that the woman I am is informed and made better by my alternative sexuality, who can?  Or teaching my friends on the other side of the issue that I’m not disrespecting my sexuality by choosing not to date women; I’m respecting me.  I’m respecting my needs.  And, in turn, I am sure that all of you–with your sure-to-be disparate responses–will inspire me to be better, too.  I only hope I do manage to inspire rather than harm.

To be clear: I’m not coming out because I feel like it’s any more your business than I did yesterday or the day I started this process.  I’m coming out because it’s MY business.

So.  How are you doing?  Okay?  I hope so.  I’ll leave you to yourself for now.  But, when you’re ready, I can’t wait to answer those questions.

Oh, and Happy New Year.  It’s going to be fantastic.

The year is dying in the night.

In a few hours, it will be 2013.  Tomorrow, right at 12:01, a post will go up.  It will be done, I won’t be able to take it back.  I’m introducing myself to a new year in a very permanent way.

I’m making my future interesting with this post, yes, but I’m making MY future.

It’s been a rough year and I think, in order for next year to be better, I need to let it die.  I talked a bit about this in letting go, but letting the year die is so much more than that.  It means more than a goal to look to the future, to not dwell on my mistakes next year.

It means taking the tumult and sickness and loneliness and anger and hurt of a year full of them all, and throwing it away.  Forgetting it happened.  Starting as if the year’s experiences weren’t sitting in my heart.

Good bye, everyone.  See you in a very new year.


As ever, the title comes from this poem.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin.

Perhaps this is three goals in one.  Perhaps it’s a quixotic goal that will just depress me during evaluations next year.  Perhaps I’m asking too much of myself.

Regardless, I should like to make the goal to spend next year ringing out the want, the care, and the sin.  I tired of inactive lust–which is really all want is, pride–care, and rationalization–excuses for sin.  It’s time to be more active in my desires, to give away my pride–which may mean being more active in therapy and admitting all is not perfect, which should lead to less rationalizations for my behavior.

As I said, this may be three goals shoved into one post, but I think they’re related.  All of them require more humility.  All of them require work, effort–things I’ve let myself relax in this year.  I’ve been so busy with busy-work, I’ve forgotten to busy myself with genuine self-improvement.  I’ve forgotten hoe to make mistakes and learn from them.  I’ve been so proud of the progress that is no medication that I have entirely ignored the regress.

Busy-work, perfectionism, indolence–these are symptoms of a damaged mind, specifically my damaged mind.  I have never been able to completely give them up.  I don’t suppose I ever will as there is no cure for my special brand of damage.  But I can make them better.  I have let much of my watchful care and work fester, atrophy, for the safer option of coping mechanisms.  I’ll admit, I hadn’t realized the extend of my regression because I had managed to avoid the coping techniques that were more obvious.  Flickering and flashing lights are easier to see than cracks in the foundation.

I know better than to look for the lights, and yet that is exactly what I did.  Faulty wiring is an easy solve, but a weak foundation is a serious danger.  This is not to say the obvious symptoms are enjoyable or preferable–they’re just easier to isolate and then deal with.

This is not to say I am unwell.  This is not intended to be an airing of dirty laundry.  My Bi-Polar is under control for now nand these faults are nothing but a life’s work to be done–I can always do better, even if I am at my healthiest.

This year, I intend to be better.  I intend to ring out these things that keep me away from my true self, my friends, and my God.  Instead, I will ring in my humble and steadfast efforts to meet them.


The title comes from this poem.

Ring out the thousand wars of old.

I don’t like to fight.

But I *do* prefer to fight and get it over with and out than sit on anger and frustration.  I think it’s a much better way to solve issues and know that the blow outs that do come after sitting on a problem are REALLY hurtful.

But, there is something to be said for more peaceful problem solving.  It’s not biting your tongue, it’s biting back bitter and introducing love into the process.

I want to ring out contention this year.  This year, I was in a situation where I had a piece of information I intended to share, but I knew that if it came out while angry or hurt, I would end up hurting people around me and cause more problems that I solved by sharing the information.  So, I worked hard to tell the right people at the most right time I could.

It was not easy.  However, my efforts were much appreciated by those who I told.  I did tell a couple people angrily and–if nothing else–it made me feel scummy and terrible.

So, this next year, another goal is to rule out strife–both with others and within myself.  I need to be better to people.  I need to be a peaceful problem solver.

I need to ring out the thousand wars and start fresh.


The title comes from this poem.

The year is going, let him go.

This next year, I want to learn to let go.

I, as it may surprise no one, obsess.  And it’s a function of my Bi-Polar, so I often don’t realize I’m doing it until I’m in the throes of a particularly good and long obsession.  Then, it takes ages to climb out.

I don’t want to do it any more.  I hate the worry, I hate the uncertainty, I hate the raging paranoia, I hate the selfish attitude that accompanies it.

I hate obsessing.

So that’s what I’m ringing in today.  I want to ring in a year in which I think about others.  If I have to worry, it will be about other people.  If I have to be uncertain, it will be because I have done all I can do.  If I have to be paranoid, I’ll work through it faster.  If I have to be selfish, it will be for health reasons.  But, I’m letting go.  I’m letting go of my mistakes and failures.  I’m going to allow myself to be imperfect.  I’m going to let go of my hurt and heartache. I’m going to let myself be happier.

I’m going to stop obsessing.


The title comes from this poem.

P.S.  I’m working on something REALLY cool for my 200th post.  It’s going to include the words and pictures and awesomeness that is me!  Two more to go!

Ring out the grief that saps the mind.

This coming year, I would love to find a cure for my Bi-Polar.

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .



Hee hee hee hee heeeeeeeeeeeeeee.


Okay, I’m back.  That is NOT what I meant in the title.  There is no cure and, further, I do not want it.  I LOVE what my Bi-Polar does for me, how it teaches me a stretches me and makes me better.

What I want to do next year is to learn to cope better.  This was my first year without being medicated since I was ten.  I survived, though barely, and had many a time I thought I might have to go back on my medication.  It’s a question ever in the back of my mind, but there were many times it was in the front of it, too.  I hate being out of control and being off medications does have an element of living on a constant edge.

I’ve allowed myself to cling to the misery this year.  I’ve written friends about being miserable, talked to my parents about it, and put on a brave face for the good people around me.  But that doesn’t change the fact that I have sapped my own mind by allowing the misery to stay.  I haven’t been active in dismissing the misery.  I’ve been lonely and frustrated, not by choice, but by circumstance.  Who would have thought that moving across town would make it so difficult?  However, despite circumstances and being in a new society being what they are, I could have easily been better about getting out and reaching out.  Instead of a brave face, I could have admitted I’m bad at making friends.  I could have done more to make them, however bad at it that I am.  I could have kept in contact with old friends better, too, and for my part in that, I am truly sorry.

Next year, I will be committed to being happier–I will allow myself to be happier.  I’ll do my best to make better and closer and more friends.  I’ll be more positive, even if only to myself.


The title comes from this poem.