Tag Archives: polyamory

Full Stop Part 1

TW: Misquoted scripture used to invalidate the experience of pretty much everyone in order to force a narrative that leaves old white men in power.

A good friend of mine is currently dealing with – you know what no. I cannot even say they are well meaning but misguided. They are willfully ignorant. They prefer the sound of their own voices as demonstrated by their removal of themselves from social media sites that flag misinformation to the unchecked echo chamber that is @^%&#%@ and their refusal to cite CNN or AP or MSNBC as credible sources but personally uploaded youtube videos are the golden standard. They have no room in their hearts from any truth that is not the bullshit coated, dubious translations of a dead brown man that they have been swallowing for decades. There. I said it. Let’s try again.

My good friend is dealing with internet trolls who happen to be related to her and at one point we both remember them being not so awful. So this one is for her. This one is going to scripture by scripture tear down this false narrative and burn it to the ground. It is going to be the script for anyone who ever feels as if these scriptures are being used to invalidate their experiences. Let’s get to it.

I am scripture by scripture refuting a post by David Jeremiah, a televangelist who announces in this post that he has never experienced inconvenience, let alone adversity, as this was the post used by the trolls mentioned above. Let us explore.

The first quoted material is found in Matthew 6:28-30, Jesus says:

So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?

I know we’ve been told this is about not worrying our entire lives, but let us imagine that Jesus wasn’t saying “Everyone with faith will get clothed. Except those poor people over there. Nobody look at them.” Because that has never made any goddamn sense but saying “Guys. Trends change. No one gives a shit what you’re wearing. Look at your skin because its fucking magnificent. You are all so astoundingly beautiful. Don’t let any asshole in a Roman Times Gucci tunic tell you otherwise.” Because as the illegitimate son from a backwater town during a military occupation of their ethnic group and ancestral lands – I’m guessing Jesus was not magically unaware that death, poverty, and inequality were, have been, and sadly would continue to be rampant on earth.

Jesus was not a sociopath, probably. From all accounts, he genuinely seems to care about people. So when Mr. Jeremiah ends his mind numbingly pathological post with “He would never suffer and die for the same children He planned to neglect.” There are only two takeaways. 1) Jesus is utterly powerless because literal thousands of actual children die everyday (1) or 2) If you die young, if you die from poverty, or inequality, or murder, or tragedy, or you know – an act of god – its because you were never one of gods children and he cares for your life less than the animals he allows to remain alive. Your choice.

Now, to provide continuing guidance of all things bullshittery in your life, he lists 17 (he says 18 but one of them is from the above quotation and I’m not repeating myself anymore than necessary) verses for building courage. Which, I guess is supposed to be the opposite on anxiety? Weird. Anyway. Because I know these verses are going to be used by internet trolls the world over – let’s go over each and every one so that you know what to say the next time someone tries to use one of these to invalidate your experience and shut you up.

Deuteronomy 33:25 As your days, so shall your strength be.

For context, this is taken out of the old testament and is in the center of a long winded speech by Moses to bless the 12 tribes of Israel – in this verse, specifically, the tribe of Asher. Even weirder, it’s only half the sentence. The full sentence reads “The bolts of your gate will be iron and bronze” and then follows with “as your days, so shall your strength be.” Granted, I cannot make any fool proof critique on what appears to be an ancient idiom, but considering I have no gate and no ties to the tribe of Asher – this seems out of context for someone telling me to not worry so much.

Psalm 43:5 Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God: for I shall yet praise Him, the help of my countenance and my God.

This one especially pisses me off. Misquoting, decontexualizing menagerie feces – this one is constantly used to tell others to suppress any negative feelings – be it depression, anxiety, anger, helplessness, etc. I feel like the first 4 verses of this particular psalm are *rather* important contexually.

43 Vindicate me, O God, and defend my cause
    against an ungodly people,
from the deceitful and unjust man
    deliver me!
2 For you are the God in whom I take refuge;
    why have you rejected me?
Why do I go about mourning
    because of the oppression of the enemy?

3 Send out your light and your truth;
    let them lead me;
let them bring me to your holy hill
    and to your dwelling!
4 Then I will go to the altar of God,
    to God my exceeding joy,
and I will praise you with the lyre,
    O God, my God.

The singer of this psalm is straight up calling God out and saying he/she will return to praising when he/she is *vindicated*. So no. The meaning behind this scripture is not to “Turn your frown upside down” but to yell at your god until he makes it better. You’re welcome.

Psalm 55:22 Cast your burden on the Lord, and He shall sustain you; He shall never permit the righteous to be moved.

I’m not going to quote the whole thing because it’s 23 verses long. I will, however, sum up. “God, these fuckers are pissing me off. Why have you allowed such rampant fucking injustice? What the hell?” And I know that this is not a man praying for a peaceful end to the liars he specifically calls out *AHEM Trumpers AHEM* because the Psalm literally ends like this.

Psalm 55:23 But you, O God, will cast them down
    into the pit of destruction;
men of blood and treachery
    shall not live out half their days.
But I will trust in you.

So, when God starts bloodbathing people for warmongering – then we can trust in him.

Matthew 6:34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

This one comes on the heels of the first speech, quoted above, but both of those are taken out of context from a whole chapter that is about humble giving. (We’ve referenced this before, it’s the opposite of Performative Holiness aka what Donald Trump does when he ‘donates his salary to charity’ (2) while golfing on the dime of taxpayers and lining his own pockets with each vacation. Also, not divesting from his business interests for his entire presidency.)

Also importantly, the verse immediately preceeding this lesson on anxiety is the again, often misquoted, Matthew 6:24 “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.

(Sorry, have to pause here for my polyamorous fam. I’ve had this one quoted at me many a time. I cannot possibly love both of my partners, right? You can easily debunk this one by a) your partner is sure as shit not your master and b) just ask them if you can love your parents – both of them? – and your inlaws? Or just one of your kids? Yea, it’s clearly not about who you can love. Awesome. Next.)

Wait, what? Jesus was talking to rich ass people right before he was talking about not worrying about what you will wear? That’s not a lecture to a person wondering how they will afford a new pair of shoes for their growing kid – that’s a sass to a man more interested in his clean pressed tunic than on those suffering around him. So…this whole speech was to rich people? Yes. Yes it was. It is actually taken from a group of rather random sermon summations entitled “the sermon on the mount” which is not, actually, one long winded sermon. Considering he addresses multiple groups throughout the ‘speech’ I think it is important to consider the context of each snippet and the ones around it.

So directly after this ‘today has its open problems’ bit, he instructs us not to judge. To not “see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? 4 Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? 5 You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.”

So to be suuuuuper clear – these ‘do not be anxious’ quotes are smack dab directly in the middle of him lecturing rich people and judgmental assholes. So he’s not lecturing people who have anxiety disorders, or struggle with depression. He’s… he’s attacking the religious elite. Those who have to appear pure, and constantly try to ‘help’ other people out of their sin’ while ignoring their own blatant hypocrisy. Noted. Hey Mr. Jeremiah, you might want to take notes.

Philippians 4:6-7 Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

Oh Lord, this one. This one has been used to keep people down and poor more times than I have heard the word purity ring used at a 13 year old girl’s birthday party. Paul goes on to thank the church of Philippians in the following verses for being the ONE church to send him money. Repeatedly. This is not him lecturing them on what they ought to do, but blessing them for what they have done. In the same way we send thank you cards in which we say, “Thank you! I hope all your wishes come true.” is the way he is ending this lengthly missel.

Let me be very frank – the peace that passes understanding is not a gift to the unanxious hungry, those trapped by debt but somehow carefree, but to those who have to cut off their family members because they erode their self worth into the darkest pits of despair with their inability to love freely and without condition. It is a gift to those who have discovered that thier god is not the horrible man in the sky they were taught he was, but that they are truly made in her image – gender nonconforming and loves on the whole spectrum.

Part 2 is next!

Unfuck Yourself: Co-Dependency Edition

Stumbled across an instagram post yesterday about how Christian women are raised to become co-dependent on purpose. And that hit hard because it’s true. *Please note, in this blog, whenever I refer to christianity I am referring to White American Evangelical Christianity.*

Being asked to be a wife is the #1 priority in a young woman’s life. Honestly, the sooner the better. She is available once she becomes 18 and the most blessed often have proposals before 22. Those who don’t are often reassured that their lives will ‘begin soon’ and they are encouraged to continue ‘preparing themselves’ for marriage. From the time they begin dreaming about Disney princes they are directed onto a path of strict, though confusing and often contradictory, path of purity in which they ‘wait’ for their future beloved and do little else but attempt to prepare for that time. Prayer for one’s future beloved, purity for one’s self, and the continuing pursual of selflessness – the only crown a woman can wear once she gives her purity away for the ability to have children.

The more burnt out the better. She should be so satisfied by her life and her Jesus that the thought of keeping any of herself for herself is anathema and her entire focus is her children (god willing) and her husband. She should rise before him to pray for him and prepare for his day. The day should be spent as much at home as possible, keeping the home while the man works, and to prepare for his arrival. Once home, because of his sacrifice to leave the home for her and thusly blessing her to stay there, everything should revolve around him.

She is most likely his sole emotional support, and this is as it should be. Male emotional intimacy is closely tied to his sexuality, and thusly he usually only leans on those he is having sex with. Or wants to have sex with. All other relationships are most likely superficial, or, in the cases of deep feelings for beloved parents or grandparents, often muted in their emotional give and take.

I have been married for going on 8 years and while I realize that there are many who have been married longer than I, I have been married long enough to say, “Oh, dear daughters. It’s all bullshit.”

Your life starts the minute you begin making cognizant choices. (Not trying to say it has no value before then, but no one is going to look at floppy necked babe and think that woman is living her best life.) There is no waiting for any part of it. It is all relevant and amazing and painful and no part of it is any less potent or valuable.

My life did not begin when I married. My life did not begin when I had children. My life has been roaring strongly for decades even if I had a really hard time seeing it until a few years ago. I can’t say I’m shocked that it took my husband being polyamorous to snap me out of it, because I was deep in the Koolaid and anything less than that I would have somehow blamed myself for and became an ashamed divorcee with even more self esteem issues than before.

Daughters, live your life to YOUR specifications and only your specifications. If someone wants to come into your life and join you, great. But frankly, look at your best friend and realize that is the most important relationship you are ever going to have and build your life with them. I promise you it will be a more authentic life than one built with a man who thinks he has to ask your dad for you.

We are not chattel.

And we are not responsible for our partner’s emotions. Partner had a bad day? That sucks. It is not your job to drop your life and make it better. It is their job to communicate their needs and recognize your right to meet your own needs first. Kids having a bad day? They have a tendency to do that while learning how to navigate the entire spectrum of human emotions. Doesn’t mean you need to put your self worth into their behavior and invest every ounce of your energy into their fleeting happiness.

Put. Yourself. First. It is your life. And I’m not saying think ONLY of yourself, I’m telling you what I wish I had been told when I was but a breastless child wondering when boys were going to stop being gross: it is your life. Do what you want with it. You want kids? Great, have kids. Don’t want kids? Embrace it and fuck your extended relatives that tell you when you are old you will change your mind. Know yourself, and give a giant middle finger to anyone who wants a version of you modeled after their own expectations and experiences. You want to get married? Awesome, go out there and learn about romantic, partnered you, and flirt because it is so fun. You want to make your career or life ambition your number one priority and your romantic relationships second? Or even third? Or just way down there on the list? GO FOR IT.

Please. Yourself. First.

There was a time, before polyamory, where I thought it was better to be able to look those in church in the eye, look my mom in the eye, look my extended family in the eye – at the expense of being authentic to myself. At the expense of being able to look myself in the eye.

And the weird thing is, young ones, it was when I started looking myself in the eye that I realized that I was my very own key. I thought I would lose the ability to look everyone else in the eye but I didn’t. My dignity increased. Why wouldn’t I look them in the eye? Why would I ever be worth less?

I’m not worth less because my partner is polyamorous. I’m not worth less because I am polyamorous. I am not worth less because I took sovereignty over my womb and closed it for good. I am not worth less because I saw through the bullshit and took away any mediator between myself and the divine. Nothing can make me worth less.

Not being born. Not being from another country. Not speaking another language. Not being kind. Not being educated. Not being uneducated. Not being an asshole. Tattoos. Less than flattering eyebrows. Revealing clothing. Modest clothing. Head coverings. Foul mouths. Sex positivity. Queer. Non binary. Young. Old. Somewhere in the middle. A sexual. Bi sexual. Gender fluid (you stunning beauties you).

I need you, just the way you are. Just like I need me to be me.

Let us unfuck ourselves, together. Sometimes the knots are tight and we need a little help to mentally unravel them. I am here for you.

Last thing ladies:

YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE THAN SOMEONE’S (FUTURE OR PRESENT) WIFE.

How I Stay Grounded

Here’s the thing about my long term relationship that I adore – the highs and lows plateau out. I’m not saying that there aren’t highs and lows anymore, I’m just saying that we’ve got a relatively high cruising altitude with occasional turbulence.

And sometimes, I admit, that can seem rather extraordinary. Because the same issues that cause us minor turbulence can be the very issues that crash other planes. So how is it done, healthily? Because you do not keep a plane cruising that high by ignoring boundaries, not communicating, and distancing yourself from intimacy and vulnerability.

I’ve sat and thought about it for more hours than I can count – and there is going to be a separate post about repetitive work and why its so important for our brains – but it boils down to two key factors.

The first is experience. I am coming up on 8 years into this relationship. We have only been at cruising altitude for the past 2-ish. Before we hit this plateau our plane looked like one of those NASA prep flights where it was literally nothing but steep ups and plummeting downs. And not to mince words, we almost crashed that jet into the ground at least twice.

This ‘grounding’ that others see is not some type of achieved zen, if anything, it is pure exhaustion from having lived through a vomit comet. I have smashed things. I have yelled in the front yard. I have had meltdowns, breakdowns, and spent days sobbing. Some of them were appropriate responses – others were not. (Did I break down sobbing in tears and declare “Why do you hate me? I can never live up to your standards!” after being asked if he could help me get caught up on laundry? Why yes, yes I did.) Here’s the thing, though. I got those emotions out. I felt them. I lived them. I reasoned through them. And our relationship survived every single one.

So now, when something happens that would have sent us plunging before I have the ability to look back and see all of the other things we have survived and really, truly ask myself – is this going to crash us? Or do we just need a conversation and a course correct?

This also affords me the perspective to see how many things we have survived from me that might have crashed us, and how my partner handled those things. Did he stand by me when I made mistakes? Did he create distance and give me a hefty penance? Or did he come close and reassure me and help me do better? And at every instance asking myself this vitally important question, “What kind of partner do I want to be?”

The second is the single most important lesson I have learned about life.

Other people’s choices are not about me.

Including my partners. Especially my partners.

Do their choices sometimes affect me? Absolutely. Can I be justifiably hurt by them? You bet. Was hurting me the reason they made those choices? 110% No.

In this way, we are often living out subconscious inner childhood issues. When our kids are giving us a hard time, they are often having a hard time. This is not a full pass for an endless stream of selfish choices from adults, this is an insight into healing for both parties.

When I was overwhelmed and turned to alcohol, was I trying to hurt my partners? Not even a little. Were they hurt by it? Yes. Did I need to consciously choose to stop, permanently, and take their feelings into consideration while doing so? Also, yes. But it was very important that they understood my destructive choices, while hurting them, were not aimed at them. It helped me heal by being able to focus on myself and where the overwhelm was originating from. It helped our relationship heal by moving the focus from the hurt to the root. It helped them because they were able to understand that I wasn’t trying to hurt them, even though I did.

When these two lessons are taken hand in hand, it takes A LOT to tank that plane. It takes deliberate, planned actions to take that bad boy down. And that’s not the kind of relationship we have, that’s not who we are, that’s not who we have worked to become.

How do I stay grounded? I have complete and utter trust that while I might not agree with every decision my co-pilot makes, he is never going to try and crash the plane.

*Crack*

Can you be baptized by Ke$ha? Because that’s definitely what I feel like right now. I turned “Raising Hell” to max in my car and belted my lungs out every time the lyrics “If you couldn’t tell, we can always find the trouble we don’t need no help. Oh, my mama raised me well, I don’t want to go to heaven without raising hell!”

A flood of imagery came with each repetition – Rep. John Lewis and his ‘good trouble’. The ancestor altar I just set up to heal the spirits of my family line. Falling in love with Satya. Looking at my lifemate after we had dragged each other to hell and back and feeling like I was really seeing him for the first time – and loving him. Having sex long after the surgery that removed my ability to conceive children just. because. it. feels. good. Feeling the conviction of all the pain and destruction I have cause BIPOC just by “living my life” unaware. Telling toxic people in my life to fuck off.

And I swear to goddess, as I was rocking the fuck out to this song – something in me broke. I’ve been struggling against the chains I’ve felt weighing me down, each one inscribed with some bullshit doctrine about original sin, physical demonization, female subjugation, performative holiness, co-opted capitalism, etc for years. And every time I raised my voice to speak my truth it has shaken. I don’t like confrontation. I don’t like people who once liked me not liking me anymore. I don’t like disappointing family. I was a straight A, national debate champion, virginal good girl, over achiever for so much of my life. Arguments over text flooded me with stress sweat. But in this moment, I was overcome with the peace that passes understanding.

My family is my framily and we don’t expect each other to stay if we starting hurting each other. Humans are pack animals, we need our groups. But for too long the concept of family has been held over people like a guillotine instead of the safety net it’s meant to be. If raising my voice to speak my truth, to speak the truth of others, causes anyone to be ashamed of me – the doors are open. No one stays here unless they want to be here.

So here is my proclamation. The chains have fallen. They broke. And they’re not going back on, ever. I have two romantic loves of my life – and we are perfect just the way we are. My framily is my group and we do not threaten each other’s autonomy. We are activists and it is worship.

And while I do not believe in heaven, even if I did – that is NOT the goal, fam. The goal is to bring heaven to earth, to make earth a place of peace and justice – PEACE ON EARTH and goodwill toward men. NOT “close your eyes and wait until it’s over.” I rebuke that shit.

I have so many essays to write and points to make but this one, this one, is about me. This one is about my baby steps that have led me out of the darkness, each one in direct opposition to what I was told about truth and light.

Fell in love with a woman. Stayed in love with a man. Began healing my ancestral line, refusing to believe that we are beyond help after death. Stepping into my own priesthood. Began drawing healthy boundaries with people who shared pieces of my DNA (and held to them, even when they began to rail against them). Began to break the mold of the dutiful, quiet, obedient woman and embraced the wild, fierce, priestess that was my birthright. Threw out traditions that didn’t serve me and made new ones to my own liking. Smashed some stuff and gave a voice to my anger. Loved myself without permission and with total abandon (even and especially the pudge, wrinkles, stretchmarks, sagging, and body hair). Refused to believe I was cursed from birth, that my children were cursed from birth, and that our sole life’s mission was to save ourselves and await a holy reckoning. Danced naked in the moonlight around a fire. (Okay so not yet but its on my list.)

I am not ashamed of myself. The scales finally fell from my eyes and I was no longer comparing myself to what I was told I must be in order to be good.

I saw myself, exactly as I was made, following my own path hand in hand with my Spirit and it was good. It is great.

I am holy.

And I am dancing with my tits out, loudly and without abandon, breaking my own chains and howling at the moon while I reach across generations and through decades or murky trauma bullshit to build a new now, and a new future and continue to become the healer I am made to be, lit by the fire of all the lies and oppression and chains and pollution that have kept us quiet.

I am only getting louder.

And the fire is only getting bigger.

Home

Three years ago I wrote something that was such truth it’s depth eluded me at the time.

I kissed the woman who is now my partner for the first time. We neither of us didn’t understand polyamory. Or what we were, or could be to each other. We were so trained by society to see each other in a certain way.

But even then, I knew. I wrote the words. Kissing her felt like home.

It’s been a year now since we have been back in each other’s lives. We’ve decided its the closest thing to an anniversary we might ever have.

So I want the world to know, that what was true then, is even more true now. Kissing her feels like home. Everything about her feels like home. The way she holds me, the sound of her laugh, the sparkle in her eye, the way she shifts from one foot to another while reading a book while standing. The way she smells, the softness of her skin, the feel of her feet tangling with mine in the night, the shape of her. Home. Home. Home.

I don’t have anything more than that. I wish I did. She deserves the world. But today, that’s what I have.

It’s more than love. It’s more than destiny or past lives or infatuation. She is home.

I love you, Satya. With all of me. Happy Anniversary.

How Many Times

Today I found a magnesium supplement that was clearenced and hell yes I bought it. I bought one for me, and another for my bestie because American women are almost always magnesium deficient and it can drastically lower our stress levels. And as I swirled it into my water, I began thinking of how much better I feel, and look, and how the general aura of my life trends upward when I have a rather lengthly self care ritual in place.

And I began to wonder, is it because of the things that are done during those rituals, or is it the act itself? Hear me out. Because yes, hydrating and a solid facial and a warm cardemom and rose hip almond milk before bed all have proven benefits. But my question is, are they enhanced simply by the doing?

We have all heard that talking kindly to plants has actual effects on their growth and health, especially when compared with talking to them harshly, even if watering schedules and habitats are identical. And we know that to some extent, this is true for humans. Well, actually, especially true for humans.

But I’m not talking about negative self talk here – I have depression and anxiety, thanks, and sometimes my thoughts are indeed out of my control and I’m not talking about self care as a way to wrangle in my less than flattering self commentary.

Plants can’t really choose much. They are planted and that’s about it. They grow, hopefully. Create offspring. Survive. They cannot move nor decide the temperature, nor the rainfall. And while I do believe there is a definite type of information system embedded within them, I don’t think that any plant can have a bad day mentally.

But we can choose, and indeed have to choose, constantly, every day. Our entire life is made up of choices. From the minute we hit snooze in the morning to the minute we roll our eyes at our partners who seem to have no problem sleeping in an unmade bed.

And as a mother, a partner, and the homebody, I spend a whole lot of my day choosing to do things for others. And don’t get me wrong, I choose to do so joyfully. I enjoy cooking (most of the time). Laundry has its perks. Dishes are the devil but they mean that we have eaten that day, so I can get over it. I homeschool the kids and its insanely gratifying to watch them learn and play. I could definitely be a better housekeeper but let’s stay on track – most of my day is spent focused on others. In fact, the few things I do for myself are often tacked onto others. I do get my morning cup of coffee, but I get it immediately because my partner needs it before he goes to work. I do make myself a lunch, but I do it because I’m making the kids one anyway. I do sit and play Animal Crossing for a half hour to try and regain my sanity after school. I do allow myself to go to bed stupidly early because I am a human anomaly who genuinely just needs that much sleep. Haters gon’ hate – sleepers gon’ sleep.

So the rememberance of feeling and looking better while practicing nuanced self care isn’t a radical change of increased hydration and rubbing my face, but consistently choosing myself throughout the day. Constantly showing through my actions that I. Am. Important.

And it is THAT choice, not my lovely smelling moisturizer, not my magic infused tea, not stretching or deep breathing, that hastens the positive outcomes.

So perhaps the more nuanced self care leads to better self for the simple reason that it requires us to choose ourselves more. Every additional step is an additional declaration that we matter enough for this. How many times in a day can I tell myself that I matter? How many times a day can I do something to communicate my worth to myself?

I have some things I’m going to start doing again and most of them revolve around my nightly routine now that the kids are going to sleep easier and I actually have a solid half hour between when they go down and when I do – but I want to invite you – everyone – to choose themselves more.

How can I support you in that? How can we help each other choose ourselves? Because we’re worth it. We’re worth the effort. This is not about expensive creams and supplements – this is about washing our face and making the hot water for a tea packet.

Tonight I am going to moisturize my face and do the rub thing that has a fancy name that is apparently very good at preventing wrinkles. And in the morning, I will think of other ways to specifically communicate to myself, through tangible action, that I matter. That I am important. Not because of what I give to others, or contribute to society, but because I exist.

Tell me – what is your favorite way to say ‘I matter’ to yourself?

2020 You Fickle Bitch

I have so many reasons to genuinely dislike this year. Obviously. It’s been a dumpster fire of a year globally. And it’s not even half over.

But I don’t feel the need to list the ways everything has gone off the rails. We’re all acutely aware, and have been hit hardest in many different ways.

Thing is, I’ve learned that going off the rails isn’t always a bad thing. Like, metaphorically, it is, obviously. Trains belong on rails. Life doesn’t.

So when the stay at home order hit, rather than be apart, my metamour moved in. Best. Plot Twist. Ever. I went from 100% mono to 100% not trying to be labeled because I’m living that spectrum life. I went from 100% heterosexual to 100% exploring romantic, not necessarily sexual love. And my life is so much richer for it.

I’m 100% over the competition. She is beautiful. She is graceful. I feel as if I live every morning just to make her laugh. She is not a foil to my glaringly less desireable traits, nor is she a compliment to my many admirable qualities. She exists wholly outside of me. Her own being. Her own life. Her own sphere of creation. And I love her. And he loves her. And he loves me. And she loves me.

Competition was taught to us in order to make us feel as if someone has to lose. As if there are no win win solutions for what plagues us. And I’m here to call bullshit.

As I continue my education of who I am, relearning history from the perspective of the ‘losers’, and questioning everything that is taken for granted in this fucked up culture, I am realizing just how much we have lost.

And how much there is to take back. Families are not supposed to look one way. Love is not supposed to be an unchangeable, inflexible chain around us. Love is as big and beautiful and ever changing as we are.

I’m not saying commitment is a bad thing, quite the opposite. I’m saying refusing to leave room for growth is detrimental. Forcing love to look a certain way for the sake of fitting in, ignoring your personal needs in favor of what society has convinced you is ‘right’, will hurt you and everyone you care about.

I’m saying I’m done giving even the slightest consideration to what I have been told is ‘right’. And have become deeply skeptical of anything that I have ever or will ever be told is ‘God’s will’. Because it’s almost always the will of greedy, old, white men.

There are win/win solutions for almost every problem we face, so long as your definition of winning isn’t domination/control/hoarding wealth/needing others to tell you how correct you are. There is enough food for all of us (if we stop throwing the extra away). There are more than enough homes for all of us. More than enough resources. More than enough love.

Things I do find there to be a shortage of: therapists with non traditional hours. Someone work on that.

And what I will not accept anymore are the lies. The lies we have been fed a steady diet of for as long as we can remember. Capitalism is the best way. You can pull yourself up by your bootstraps. Family is blood relatives. America is the best. America is a Christian nation. The Bible is unchanging. Black on black crime. Soldiers give their lives for our freedom. We are free. We are the free-est. The most important life is the unborn life. Police are the good guys. Binary gender. Binary sexuality. Beauracrisy is an unavoidable part of life. You are worth what you do/provide/make/work. Wisdom of white elders. Politeness is more important than truth. Compliance is more important than truth. We need to be saved.

The goal for the rest of my time here on this earth is to one by one dismantle the hold those lies have on us, reveal them for the corrupt and controlling evils that they are, and burn it all down.

And honestly? I kinda feel like that’s the whole energy of 2020. It’s brutal. It’s brutal because of what we have done up to this point. It’s killing us because of racial and wealth inequality that white people have refused to make reparataions for over centuries. Because caring for your neighbors has become political. Because we have been convinced that freedom means doing whatever we want whenever we want instead of getting what we need when we need it. Because spending money on war is always acceptable but spending it on keeping people alive is somehow absurd. Because we have been killing the planet carelessly for more than a century to line the pockets of a handful. Because there are individual members of our planet who could end poverty and choose not to.

You know what, 2020? I’m here for you. I might die. I hope to heaven I lose my white priviledge. I have listened to the sounds of others crying for us to burn it all down and the flames have changed me. Let’s do this.