There is nothing in the world I would rather do than write.
I love to learn about new things and new cultures, to study in-depth on all things dorkdom. I adore reading all different genres; especially discovering new or new-to-me authors. Time with friends - laughing, postulating, relaxing - feeds my soul. Coffee makes me giddy, and not just because of the caffeine; and sleep is a phenomenal luxury in which I love to luxuriate.
But writing...
Writing is my very breath, my fuel. It envelops me in a way nothing else can - even painting, which I also am quite fond of. The way simple words come together to evoke complex emotion...the twists and turns of phrase that can create something out of nothing are tiny miracles that dot the landscape of my heart.
Poetry was my dominant form of writing for much of my formative years, and remained such until perhaps a half-decade ago. However, it was primarily a way for me to process and deal with my more negative emotions and experiences, and so became prohibitively difficult to sustain in the face of self-acceptance and true happiness. The positive effect of this (aside from the obvious self-acceptance and true happiness) was that I discovered a talent and love for fiction writing.
There is very little like it, truly, and I have found in discussing the process with other writers that the frustratingly wonderful aspects of composing fiction are ubiquitous in the field. You have not lived until a character that *you* created grabs ahold of your story arc and gleefully runs the other direction with laughing abandon. It's like living with a host of imaginary friends in your head on a constant basis, all vying and jockeying for position and storyline participation and their very existence. They have secrets they refuse to reveal until they are ready, and entire sides of their personalities that will pop out unbidden at the worst times.
Let that sink in for a minute - these are people, characters that are created in your head, entirely made up of your own thoughts and imagination. And they hide things from you...trick you into believing things about them that are not true, and do things you never could have predicted. It's surreal in the most wonderful way. And I'm not just nuts here - this is an extremely common occurrence for many creative writers. Of course, that could just mean we're all nuts, but I'm kinda okay with that.
In any case, back to writing being my life. As some of you reading this may know, I have one published short story out there in the world, which was a result of winning a spot in an anthology a few years ago. Though it was not marketed all that well, and sales were therefore predictably dismal, it did give me the immeasurable benefit of working with editors and going through the process of edits, re-edits, re-re-edits, etc. It also taught me so much about what I do and how I do it, and how to hone that skill into something marketable and (more importantly) enjoyable for my potential readers.
This story was published under a pseudonym, due to personal reasons for me wanting to prepare for a writing career apart from any familial associations. Some time later, I decided instead to write under a different pseudonym, to feel closer to 'myself'; and even made business cards, a (now-defunct) website, an email address, and a twitter handle with this new name. But something just didn't feel right. I felt like the 'writer' part of me was this other personality, and the 'me' part of me was somehow just other. Enter my recent revelation.
I was on my personal twitter feed, which I created with my recently-changed married name, choosing whom to follow. Out of interest (and habit), I began clicking on all the different publishing houses, editing/quotes/writer's guild/writing help/etc. profiles, in order to get all the pertinent poop on the publishing and writing worlds. It was only after feeling immensely accomplished at finishing this task that I realized I just did this - and posted a writing-related tweet - under my personal account, instead of a 'writer' account.
First, knee-jerk horror. Then, slowly dawning realization - why do I feel the need to use a pseudonym? Why should I separate myself into different pieces, when it's who I am that fuels what I do? I'm not *just* a writer. I'm not *just* an activist, lesbian, mother, wife, friend, retail worker, horrible housekeeper, nature lover, spiritual soul... I'm all of these things. All at once. And the recent experience of legally claiming my married name lent new pride to the concept.
My name is my identity. It's what people call me - for better or worse - and what the world references as 'me'. So why should I choose something artificial to represent myself when it is my authenticity that inspires me? My original issues with wanting to protect those I love who share (now only part) of my name dissipated with the advent of my complete self-assurance in who I am. I do not ask them to change for me, but neither will I change for them. I am who I am, and my name is a piece of that puzzle.
All this verbosity to say...I am reclaiming my identity, both in the social media and the writing worlds. I will not hide pieces of myself to avoid conflict or discrimination, nor will I create some shield of pseudonym to hide behind. I am all of me, and I will be seen as all of me by all of you. Maybe this is prideful in the extreme, but I see it as only healthy pride. I know who I am, and anyone reading anything written by me from this point forward will know as well.
And now...I'm off to create. Love and light to all of you, and may you each find and celebrate the oneness of being completely yourself in every way, on every front. There is nothing more life-giving than this.
Not even writing.
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Weddings, Joy, and Sadness
I'm back! Aren't you glad? I know I am. I let this little pet project of mine slide for a very long time, but I feel that now is the right moment to resurrect my passionate documentation (read: ranting).
Why, you ask? Well, I'll tell you...because I got hitched! That's right, boys and girls - marriage equality came to a neighboring state, and my partner of more than 5 years and I drove up to tie the knot. Legally. You have no idea how good it feels to say that. Or how awesome it is to look at our real, live wedding license (which I totally don't do, like, every other day). We'd been planning a big to-do sometime next year, but when legal marriage was a mere hour and a half drive from our home, we couldn't pass it up. So we gathered up more friends and family than we ever thought would make the drive, headed up to Oklahoma, and did the deed!
But as wonderful and amazing as it was (and it was), there were two things that made it not quite perfect.
1) A large number of my wife's family turned out, which was wonderful. A large number of our friends did, too, which was awesome. But my family? It was just my brother and his wife and their two monkeys (their children, relax). To be fair, I didn't invite anyone else in the family other than my parents, because I knew they wouldn't come. I know some of you out there are shouting - "How can you know if you don't give them a chance?!" Trust me. I know. But the thing that hurt the very most was the absence of my folks. I didn't expect them to come, honestly. The wife and I had had a frank discussion only a few days before with them wherein they expressly stated they would not be in attendance. But I'd be lying if I didn't say a small piece of me still hoped they might change their mind.
Not for the reason you're probably thinking, though. It wasn't that I wanted them there for me - quite the contrary, I was much more comfortable just being able to be myself and enjoy my day. I wanted them there for them - so they could bear witness to not only the incredible love and support that surrounded us, but to the uninhibited, unadulterated joy that permeated that entire day. To see me openly, vulnerably happy in a way that I don't think they've ever witnessed. When you know someone disapproves of who you are from a fundamental viewpoint, it becomes almost impossible to be genuine around that person. The weird side-stepping that so many in the LGBT community are used to doing with their families of origin, the consciousness of whether you're holding your partner's hand or forgot where you were and kissed them as you headed to another room. That kind of thing.
And I realized looking back on our wedding day and viewing the pictures taken afterward, that perhaps they will always have a skewed view of who I am and what my relationship is like, because their very nature prevents them from seeing the truth of it. I really think their attendance would have opened up something in them they didn't realize they had for me - acceptance. But I cannot change them any more than they can change me...I can only offer them that which they cannot. Acceptance.
2) Driving back over the state line into our home state of Texas was a surreal and deflating experience. Knowing that somehow this imaginary boundary that we crossed invalidated all we had just done in the eyes of the law was beyond the pale, to me. That we could literally stand in one place and be recognized as a legally married couple, entitled to all that entails; and then take two steps to the left and be stripped of all those rights... Surreal is the only word to explain it. Our names were changed on the marriage license. And if we lived in Oklahoma, they would be our legal names. But as of right now, our 'federally recognized' names are different from our 'state recognized' names. Do you have any idea how weird and disconcerting that is? We cannot change our driver's licenses, or apply for a SSN name change, because the state of Texas does not recognize our marriage. Well, unless we fork out around $300 each to do so with a court order. Ridiculousness in the extreme.
Some have been angered by the Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals upholding the marriage ban. But I see it as a good thing, and a smart political move for our community. As things were, SCOTUS saw no reason to intervene - all the circuit courts were falling in line, striking down bans and opening the gates for LGBT couples to be fully recognized under the law as equal citizens. But with this advent of this latest ruling, it provides the necessary impetus for SCOTUS to act, and act quickly. Two states have filed separate appeals directly to the Supreme Court, and a nationwide decision could be handed down as soon as next summer. I realize that sounds like a long time - and from here, it does as well, I assure you. But in the grand scheme of things, it's less than a year, and it will be a groundbreaking, paradigm-shifting, party-planning celebration.
Complete with free name change. I cannot wait.
Why, you ask? Well, I'll tell you...because I got hitched! That's right, boys and girls - marriage equality came to a neighboring state, and my partner of more than 5 years and I drove up to tie the knot. Legally. You have no idea how good it feels to say that. Or how awesome it is to look at our real, live wedding license (which I totally don't do, like, every other day). We'd been planning a big to-do sometime next year, but when legal marriage was a mere hour and a half drive from our home, we couldn't pass it up. So we gathered up more friends and family than we ever thought would make the drive, headed up to Oklahoma, and did the deed!
But as wonderful and amazing as it was (and it was), there were two things that made it not quite perfect.
1) A large number of my wife's family turned out, which was wonderful. A large number of our friends did, too, which was awesome. But my family? It was just my brother and his wife and their two monkeys (their children, relax). To be fair, I didn't invite anyone else in the family other than my parents, because I knew they wouldn't come. I know some of you out there are shouting - "How can you know if you don't give them a chance?!" Trust me. I know. But the thing that hurt the very most was the absence of my folks. I didn't expect them to come, honestly. The wife and I had had a frank discussion only a few days before with them wherein they expressly stated they would not be in attendance. But I'd be lying if I didn't say a small piece of me still hoped they might change their mind.
Not for the reason you're probably thinking, though. It wasn't that I wanted them there for me - quite the contrary, I was much more comfortable just being able to be myself and enjoy my day. I wanted them there for them - so they could bear witness to not only the incredible love and support that surrounded us, but to the uninhibited, unadulterated joy that permeated that entire day. To see me openly, vulnerably happy in a way that I don't think they've ever witnessed. When you know someone disapproves of who you are from a fundamental viewpoint, it becomes almost impossible to be genuine around that person. The weird side-stepping that so many in the LGBT community are used to doing with their families of origin, the consciousness of whether you're holding your partner's hand or forgot where you were and kissed them as you headed to another room. That kind of thing.
And I realized looking back on our wedding day and viewing the pictures taken afterward, that perhaps they will always have a skewed view of who I am and what my relationship is like, because their very nature prevents them from seeing the truth of it. I really think their attendance would have opened up something in them they didn't realize they had for me - acceptance. But I cannot change them any more than they can change me...I can only offer them that which they cannot. Acceptance.
2) Driving back over the state line into our home state of Texas was a surreal and deflating experience. Knowing that somehow this imaginary boundary that we crossed invalidated all we had just done in the eyes of the law was beyond the pale, to me. That we could literally stand in one place and be recognized as a legally married couple, entitled to all that entails; and then take two steps to the left and be stripped of all those rights... Surreal is the only word to explain it. Our names were changed on the marriage license. And if we lived in Oklahoma, they would be our legal names. But as of right now, our 'federally recognized' names are different from our 'state recognized' names. Do you have any idea how weird and disconcerting that is? We cannot change our driver's licenses, or apply for a SSN name change, because the state of Texas does not recognize our marriage. Well, unless we fork out around $300 each to do so with a court order. Ridiculousness in the extreme.
Some have been angered by the Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals upholding the marriage ban. But I see it as a good thing, and a smart political move for our community. As things were, SCOTUS saw no reason to intervene - all the circuit courts were falling in line, striking down bans and opening the gates for LGBT couples to be fully recognized under the law as equal citizens. But with this advent of this latest ruling, it provides the necessary impetus for SCOTUS to act, and act quickly. Two states have filed separate appeals directly to the Supreme Court, and a nationwide decision could be handed down as soon as next summer. I realize that sounds like a long time - and from here, it does as well, I assure you. But in the grand scheme of things, it's less than a year, and it will be a groundbreaking, paradigm-shifting, party-planning celebration.
Complete with free name change. I cannot wait.
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