lesbianspaghetti

Archive for February, 2012|Monthly archive page

My Big Fat Lesbian Life – Fill A Heart

In Blog, blogging, Blue Like Jazz, christian, Current events, Edgefield McMenamins, emotions, encouragement, equality, Facebook, kindness, Kiss, kisses, Laughing stars, Lesbian, lgbt, Life, Love, Oregon, people, portland oregon, Rain, relationships, The Little Prince, women, Writing on February 27, 2012 at 11:34 pm

Somedays, I just feel like I can’t do anything right.

It could be the way I keep managing to slam my seat belt in the car door, lose my keys, the days I forget to start the dishwasher, misplacing my favorite earrings, or over tweeze one brow giving me a permanent look of raising a brow. I don’t even know how to raise only one brow.

It’s days like that, that I need my heart filled. I need to hear what it is I’m doing right, versus where it is I’m falling short.

I’m sure we all feel like this from time to time, but I think we forget outside of ourselves and that hearts need to be filled.

So go… say something nice to someone today. Let them know what they’re doing right. It doesn’t have to be some big display of praise, though don’t stop yourself if that’s what’s on your heart. But fill someone’s heart today with letting them know what they mean to you, or what it is they do that makes you smile.

With today’s gas prices one thing we can be sure of, we can all afford to fill a heart.

My Big Fat Lesbian Life – Into The Wild & Into My Heart

In Blog, blogging, Blue Like Jazz, Choose Joy, Current events, dating, equality, Facebook, family, feelings, friendship, gardening, God, healing, Kiss, Laughing stars, Lesbian, lgbt, Love, Oregon, parenting, people, portland oregon, Rain, relationships, women, Writing on February 10, 2012 at 9:08 am

It’s been no secret to anyone around me, that moving up here has been one of the biggest culture shocks to my system. Of course the reasons I moved from my small town, were of the worst reasons in the bigger picture, but at the time I truly felt it was what I needed to do to give my marriage a chance. It wasn’t the plan when I first married, and it wasn’t the plan after I had moved (we both wanted to move to the country) but all of that aside (I’ve written that out of my system already) this is where I have landed.

I laid in bed for a bit, and tried to figure out exactly at what point it was I transitioned in this woman that adapted to her surroundings. Where it was exactly I had closed that door to the barefeet against the grass, and replaced it with the sound of my heels walking across a parking lot. That isn’t to say that I don’t appreciate wearing heels, but if given the option I would gladly toss my heels and all they have come to resemble since moving here.

I’m meeting with a life coach once a week. She asks questions that I sometimes struggle with the answers to, because they face me to explore myself in ways I haven’t in quite sometime. One of my challenges this week is to list 10 things I need. That might not sound hard to some of you, but to me it made me stop in my tracks. I haven’t thought about what I need in quite awhile. My day is usually filled with the needs of others, and ofettimes I set aside what it is I need as a person. I don’t want to lose the sound of myself, because I can feel it slowly getting quieter above the sounds of other things. So I thought about the things she asked and listened to what I could still hear.

I came up with a list. This list is of course, subject to change the more I think about it, but off the top of my heart, this is what I heard when I listened to that woman inside of me.

So, here it is:

1.) Peace. I need the peace that can only come from being away from the noise of the daily movement up here.  The peace that comes from planting a seed, or a flower in the ground. I miss gardening. I miss feeling connected to something around me.

2.) I want to feel of grass on my feet and the sun on my face. In all reality I don’t mind the city; I love aspects of it. I just hate the area I live in currently.

3.) To touch and be touched.

4.) To be desired. Desired in that quiet way a soft kiss on the neck can make you feel. That kiss that makes you feel wanted. I love words, and who doesn’t like to get that text that says “I think you’re beautiful” or some equally romantic thing that makes you feel thought of throughout the day.. but that  moment that you are being quietly explored in a way that says “I see you”..well, it’s pretty amazing.

5.) To love and be loved. I’ve been working on #17 on my life list for sometime now.

6.) Open skies. No city lights, just the stars when I walk outside. Being able to watch the sun set and sleep behind the horizon. Even if it’s just making time once a week to land somewhere I can see it all.

7.) Randon kindness

8.) Music. I’m pretty sure the soundtrack to my life involves a song by Barry Manillow. That’s the only time you will see me admit this.

9.) It really is hard to come up with 10 things, because the things I mentioned above are the essential things in my life. Peace, open spaces, love, to be desired, touch, music.. Those are the things that my soul needs. All else that follows is like that extra bit of butter on your already delicious pancakes.

A quote by my favorite author, Donald Miller, says:

“And so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in a play. My hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you, about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love others more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God. We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn’t it?”

That pretty much sums up my list of things I need, and I guess a little bit of what I want. I know I could only come up with 9, but I wasn’t sure exactly how to fit ” I would like to pet a pig” into the whole scheme of things. I would like to see a firefly much more than petting a pig, but petting a pig seems more doable up here in Oregon.

My Big Fat Lesbian Life – My Mother.

In Uncategorized on February 3, 2012 at 8:45 pm

I started writing this a few days ago, when I heard that my Mom is in the hospital. She has blood clots in her lungs, and some suspicious “spots” so they conducted a biopsy a few days ago. No word has come in yet as to what the spots are, but I have been calling the hospital almost everyday to check in on her status with her nurses.

My Mom and I haven’t spoken in sometime. My life has always been painted with the colors of her addictions. It’s really hard to be a parent when you are either drunk all of the time, or jacked up on pain killers.

But truth be told, I could be a sainted woman who had given her whole life to the poor, living in a refugee camp somewhere in a third world country, and my Mom would still find enough fault to justify in her world why I am still the worst person she had ever met. She does that with my siblings as well.

I got a call from my niece last night, and she told me that my Mom had become a bit aggravated and kept calling her by my name. This seemed out of character for even her madness, so I explored with the thought of calling my Mom directly. Not knowing what she is facing, I thought maybe this was her way of saying she needed to talk to me, to make peace. So I picked up the phone, called her and when I heard her in the background, I hung up. I needed to process why it was I needed to call. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t for some unresolved issue I might have with her myself, because I know if I were to go with that intent she would not be able to give me what I need. She never has been able to. I had to decide if I was going to approach this as the daughter whose life she handled with less care than a hot potato, or as a woman who is her own.

After processing what it was I was thinking and feeling, and exploring the idea that maybe I should just let it be, I realized my need to talk to her had nothing to do with me at all. I had long ago made my own closure and healing as a daughter. I was no longer that little girl who was so fragile and longed for the acceptance and love of my Mom. I am no longer that little girl who stood and cried for my Mom when I watched her drive away (not really ready to talk about that day yet), though her actions would create a life of protection of my own heart, because the idea of being vulnerable and open comes with the possibility that I could be left standing alone with a vulnerable heart.

Once I processed that I could approach my Mom as a woman, not her daughter, I decided that I would in fact contact her. No matter how reckless my Mom was with my life, as another human being I couldn’t walk away from the idea that someone needed to make resolution if facing death.

So.. I called. Had I been in any other place in my heart, than I am now then that phone call would have left me shredded on the ground. However, because I long closed the door the daughter in me, I was able to call as a woman who has since made peace with my own life.

I started out the conversation with asking her about her hospital stay and whether she has any results back yet. Of course I knew she didn’t, but I was still trying to figure out how to approach her with the topic I knew would eventually come up. We chatted a little about her stay and tests. Then I said “Mom, I don’t know what you are facing, but I wanted to open up the possibility of peace between us if you need it.” Her response was that she did want it, but then broke out into a tirade of how she didn’t understand why I haven’t been there when she needed it, because she had always given me things. She was referring to some money she had asked me for sometime back, one of the only calls she made to me in the longest time. I had forgotten that call about the money, in part because our contact has always been so sparse that I just blocked it out. So I explained to her that I didn’t deny her the money, that I had needed some time to see if I could. I also carefully explained to her that I was in a place when she had called me for the money, because the only time I had spoken to her before that, she told me I was going to hell . I wasn’t trying to start an argument, I was just trying to explain where I was at the time when she called. Her calling for the money really surprised me, because up until that time the only other time we had spoken was when she made the comment.

Of course, she denied ever saying such a thing, and proceeded to tell me that I had made it up and believed what I wanted about her. She also went on to tell me that she wasn’t going to accept responsibility for something she didn’t ever say to me. I gently responded by telling her that I remembered because it was something that hurt when she said it, but that I didn’t want to argue. It was about finding peace and opening communication for resolve, if that was what she needed. She was pretty bent on the hell, and repeated that she never said it and that I was hurting her by saying such things. She then wanted to hang up, so did.

I stood still for a moment to make sure that I was still in the same good place I was before I picked up the phone, and I was. I also realized that I had done what I needed to do to give another person the opportunity to feel as though they have made resolution so that they may face whatever is coming at them. I have peace in that. Will she ever need to? Most likely not. I accept that about her. She is just not in the place where growth as a woman is going to happen. She’s had years to work on it, but has instead chosen to face pills instead of her own demons. That belongs to her, not the little girl who once longed to be loved as a daughter. It doesn’t belong to the woman I have become either, because I am separate of the life she provided me. I am a woman of the life I have created for myself.

I promptly called my daughter and told her that should she ever feel afraid to come with me for anything, that I was here. without judgement, accepting of who she is and would support her through her life. She said she knew that, but I wanted her to know again. I don’t want to miss the opportunity to let those know I care about, that I do care. I then called my younger brother and we had a good talk about our lives, where we are now and how we want to reconnect as a family with the families we have created for ourselves, not the lives that our mother had created for us. I just recently reconnected with my younger brother, so it was a very filling conversation. I miss my siblings, but sadly our lives have had to play out separetly until we could all create our own space void of the things our Mom used to full our worlds with. But I am holding to the possibility now that we are in that place, and I look forward to getting to know him as the young man he is.

The fact remains that my Mom was a reckless woman with the 6 lives she brought into this world, but perhaps the saddest is that it’s a direct result of her mishandling her own. If nothing else, I refuse to handle my heart, or the hearts of those that trust me, with a reckless disregard.

That’s the woman I am.