Posts Tagged ‘grief’

My Big Fat Life – It Came In On a Dark Horse Comic

In Uncategorized on May 7, 2014 at 4:27 pm

Gabriel, he started a new taper to his prednisone yesterday (the Dr. had him do it a day late, since we typically do it on a Monday) and he is holding on this dose until he sees the Dr. again on the 12th. Other than some random pains that haven’t amounted to anything, he seems to be tolerating the taper pretty well, though the taper has never been the problem. It’s when he goes off the prednisone completely, that we seem to run into trouble.

This first week of May was pretty busy. On the 1rst, Dark Horse Comics made a special allowance, and invited Gabriel into their offices for a private tour. He and his brothers got to sit at the conference table, where some pretty cool things happen in the world of graphic novels and comic books. They were given a demonstration on how the art comes to life, and given some of the coolest goodie bags afterwards. Right before they left the conference room though, Aub (PR guy) let Gabriel keep a copy of the graphic R.I.P.D. which was displayed on the wall of the conference room. Since this is one of Gabriel’s favorite movies, he was pretty stoked. I hadn’t heard him let out a victory whoop like that, in months. Aub was pretty much my personal hero that day.

I don’t typically post things I have written prior to posting, because everything I post is something I am writing I the moment. However, I wanted to share something I wrote on April 30th, knowing that May is going to be the month we most likely find out if the Colchicine works. As the time draws closer, I panic a little more and try to find the good in all I can, in the moment.

April 30th 2014
It’s 2:38am. I’m exhausted, and quite possibly too tired to sleep. I’m sitting on my kitchen table, with the patio door open, and listening to the wind gently blow against the leaves like a perfectly written symphony. Boys and dog sleeping, the faint lights of planes as they fly over, and me. Just me. It was just me and a spoonful of whipped cream, but that’s done, and now it’s just me and a naked spoon. If I believed time could give hugs, this is what I imagine it would feel like. If I believed time could kick ass, April is what I imgine it would it bruise like. But if time truly does heal, then the future is what I hope it looks like. #Peace #Hope #BuyMoreWhippedCreamLaterToday

One week down.

(Gabriel sitting at the conference table at Dark Horse Comics 5/1/2014)

Dark Horse







My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Gabriels Heart

In Uncategorized on July 21, 2013 at 8:32 pm

The blog posted before I was finished writing. Apologies for the resend, but this the complete entry. It was a premature enter button push.

My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce (and other tales of a former lesbian)

It’s really freaking hard to think that it has been almost a month.

So, here is the run down on where things are.

August of 2000 I gave birth to a wonderful boy. In fact, two of them. I had twins. Only, mid way through my pregnancy (at 20 weeks) I was told I was going to have twins, yet one wasn’t alive. They were in fact, conjoined. When I tell people, they want to know how the boys were conjoined, and usually think of what is full conjoined twins or most commonly known as Siamese Twins. The boys were conjoined, but by one long umbilical cord. The cord made a stop off in the placenta, but kept flowing to the other baby. It is called T.R.A.P Syndrome. Gabriels heart worked for both babies.

When I was told, I was devastated. I grieved the loss of one child, though I…

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My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Gabriels Heart

In Uncategorized on July 21, 2013 at 6:35 pm

It’s really freaking hard to think that it has been almost a month.

So, here is the run down on where things are.

August of 2000 I gave birth to a wonderful boy. In fact, two of them. I had twins. Only, mid way through my pregnancy (at 20 weeks) I was told I was going to have twins, yet one wasn’t alive. They were in fact, conjoined. When I tell people, they want to know how the boys were conjoined, and usually think of what is full conjoined twins or most commonly known as Siamese Twins. The boys were conjoined, but by one long umbilical cord. The cord made a stop off in the placenta, but kept flowing to the other baby. It is called T.R.A.P Syndrome. Gabriels heart worked for both babies.

When I was told, I was devastated. I grieved the loss of one child, though I had to carry to term, and every day I worried about the health of the other. I was told there was a chance he wouldn’t survive the pregnancy or delivery or birth. The amount of stress was immense. I was grieving the loss, and also trying to prepare the birth of the other without knowing if he would survive. I literally didn’t just reserve one plot for burial, I had to hold two. Yes, it was that awful.

I spent a lot of time (as you can imagine) seeing a specialist, and having ultra sounds done. Every week, and as the time got closer every few days, it was really hard to lay there in the ultrasound room. I wanted to hold that baby so bad, yet I was so afraid to hope. It is a safe thing to say that I walked around in pretty much a depressed state most of the time. I isolated myself and had just enough energy to keep my shit together and try to keep on keeping on for the sake of everyone else. Though I would sit in the bathroom, lock the door, and just cry.

When Gabriel was born, he was transported to the NICU at Doernbechers. I was told that his heart was a mess, and they needed to help him. I was stuck at the hospital where I birthed him, because the medication used during the birth still hadn’t worn off. So off my new baby went, while I watched him being taken via hospital in that big tube. I was just beside myself with worry. He was so beautiful, and I couldn’t even be there to comfort him.

As they were taking Gabriel to the NICU at Doernbechers, the funeral home had already arrived to take Isaac. I had just given birth to two boys, yet I was there in my room, alone. My arms were empty. My heart, full.

Gabriel stayed in the NICU only 10 days. A far cry from the months they tried to prepare me for. I was told that his heart rate was normal, his oxygen level was normal, that everything about him was good and we could go home. I stayed awake for weeks at night, ready to pounce on every whimper. I was terrified to fall asleep. I was so scared something would happen to him, and I wouldn’t be able to help him if I was sleeping. But eventually I settled down and accepted that Gabriel was good. I even took him back for a follow-up echo cardiogram in 2005 *just to be sure* because no matter what, something in the back of my mind always worried. Again, I was told everything was fine. In fact, I remember that Dr telling me specifically that I would never have to have him tested again because his heart was absolutely fine. When the Pediatrician heard a murmur in 2007, and he was looked at once again, I was told again.. he was just fine. The studies were normal (I don’t like the word “normal” btw. I like to use “typically developed”, but for the sake of this and tell you the study results, normal it is).

Gabriel has had some struggles. He is hyper mobile, which means he can turn his leg almost completely backwards. It’s a fascinating, yet concerning trick. He has been plagued by tiring easier than the other children, though his drive to engage is healthy. He finds himself discouraged that he hasn’t been able to finish a “whole lap” at school like the other kids in his class. He’s short and if you recall from an earlier blog, was diagnosed as IGF1 deficient. I attributed some of these things to his poor muscle development and IGF1 levels, but I decided to still have the genetics specialist take a look and see what she thought might be going on.

When we went, she didn’t think he had Ehlers Danlos syndrome, but wanted to do an echo cardiogram to rule it out. So, we scheduled for it to be done on a day we had a lot of other appointments.

I am so thankful she did.

Because the same Dr who told me in 2005 that Gabriels heart was normal, told me in the hall, that Gabriels heart is in fact, not okay. I was just devastated. I still am. We were quickly shuffled to another floor to do an EKG and to meet the Professor of Pediatrics. He explained to me that Gabriel has Anomalous Left Heart Coronary. Meaning, a coronary artery is in the wrong place and it’s trapped between the heart and heart muscle. It’s not something people are even aware they have, usually until it’s too late.

I find myself once again in that place that I am so worried about Gabriel. I am so angry at Doernbecers for not finding this sooner, and telling me that I never needed to bring Gabriel back for an echo cardiogram, back in 2005. Yet I am so thankful the genetics specialist ordered a test, and the radiology technician found it. Mind  you it wasn’t the Dr who first did the test himself and missed it that found it, it was the technician who found it.

Frustration aside, I am trying to just cope with this moment to moment. Because I find myself in a familiar place with my Gabriel once more. I am worried about his health, I am worried about the surgery… no, I am terrified about the surgery. As the date draws closer to his surgery (open heart), I find myself wishing the days would go slower and I can have every moment possible to hold Gabriel.

Everyone keeps telling me not to worry, that medicine has progressed so much. Get real, I am his Mom. Of course I am worried. I have been this place before with Gabriel and it’s not an easy place to be. It’s scary as fuck, pardon my language. I cry, a lot. All I can think about is to get Gabriel through this complete and perfectly perfect and that kid can run a lap at school and kick some ass doing it. But yes, I am going to worry.

Anxiety anyone?

When I stood in that hall (Because as soon as I realized something wasn’t good, I asked him to speak to me in the hall. The Dr was actually going to drop this news in front of Gabriel and his brothers) I felt like I was being told all over again, that I was in limbo. The worry, the tears, the pleading with God, that this was just some awful dream. Only this time, I held Gabriel and cried. I listened as he told me not to worry, but that if anything did happen he wants to be buried with his twin (that was so hard to hear).

I am trying really hard to keep focused on this surgery, and in between my random bursts of tears, I am trying to focus on his upcoming birthday (which is a few weeks after his surgery). We will make it through this, and we will celebrate. We will have a kick ass 13th birthday party, and Gabriel will be better than he is now.

I do have to say that I have been sorely disappointed in that the people I thought would step up and be a support, haven’t been. I cleaned a lot of people off of my Facebook page and regretfully have closed the door of some friendships for now. I really need as much positive support (positive not meaning tell me a bunch of crap how I shouldn’t worry), but I mean by willing to listen and validate. When I was pregnant with the twins, I actually had a woman tell me “Well, when I miscarried a baby, I wasn’t left with anything so you should be happy”.. Yeah, right? .. wtf?  Even now, I have told people that if they look it up, I do not .. NOT.. want to hear their Wikipedia run down. I am listening to the doctors only right now. They are the ones with the information I need. Yet, I had a neighbor tell me how she looked it up and then proceeded to tell me things I asked not to hear. I cut her off, both conversationally and in contact. I can tell the difference between the people who are wanting to help and maybe say something that could have sounded better, and the ones who really should just think about what they are going to say, yet say it anyways.

Thank you to those who have stood up, for your love, support, and most of all prayers. If you have been reading this blog since I first started it, you have been with me through quite a bit in the past few years. I want you to know, that just knowing someone out there is reading this, has always been a great comfort to me. I may not see where the words fall, but I have always felt as though they fell in soft places.

That all being said, I need to rush off and get some things done. One being I should probably think about what to do for dinner. Apparently money doesn’t grow on trees, and neither does a fully cooked dinner for a family of five.

My big Fat Lesbian Life – This Is What It Is About

In Uncategorized on March 12, 2013 at 2:43 pm

Looking back at some of the things I have written, I am almost amazed at just how much shit I put myself through. A lot of it could have been avoided or ended way sooner if I had just not engaged myself. Yet at the same time, it has chronicled a journey I have been on. Healing from grief, realizations about myself as a woman and life. If you’ve ever played video games, or watched someone, think of it as standing in a room. You need to find a clue or whatever, to move to the next level. You have opened ever single door and window until  you click on the bookshelf and suddenly a hidden door reveals itself. On the other side all of these really cool things are just there. You can’t imagine how you even managed to make it this far in the game without knowing about the things you are about to pick up and experience. Given it is a video game example, but it’s exactly like that.

That’s worth waiting for.

My Big Fat lesbian Life – Valerie Harper, Cancer & My Son Is Coming Home Today.

In Uncategorized on March 7, 2013 at 2:50 pm

Today is March 7th 2013 and today is the day that my son will be home. It’s been a little over two years, a cancer diagnosis, 5 surgeries and heaps of tears since I have laid my eyes on that kid last.

He spent the week competing in the Warriors Games Trials in California. Last night, the Marines took the gold in wheelchair basketball. I am so proud of him being a part of something that can show him that life can move on, even if it’s not the original direction in which he thought he would be going.

Today I read about the sad news of Valerie Harper, and her diagnosis. It seems so sad to me that cancer has to be such a part of our lives. If we don’t know someone who has it, we certainly have heard of those impacted by it. It touches too much. It pisses me off. As I read the news, I happened upon her People Magazine article in which she says “Don’t miss your life”. I read that and thought about all of the things I do in a day that I whine about, and yet have to do (like laundry and dishes). If my sons cancer has taught me anything, it is to appreciate that I am even alive to do the laundry and dishes. Yet I seem to be so exhausted by the end of the day and I feel only productive, if nothing else. I sometimes wonder if I am thankful enough, or if I am just so busy thinking I have to do everything, that I am afraid to leave the dishes in the sink and let the unfolded laundry go so I can just walk out the door and enjoy the sound of birds or visit a place I have wanted to experience. I sometimes wonder I am so thankful to be alive, that I am so busy doing everything I think I need to do, that I am forgetting to enjoy the things I can do. I stand in reflection of the things I need to adjust to keep moving forward with the most vibrant and productive self I can be. I need to not only learn to let my life me a productive one, I need to let it be a celebrating one. This life is such a gift.

My heart goes out to Valerie Harper and her family. I know they have a journey ahead of them, that isn’t easy. It’s full of too many lessons in a short amount of time. I am sure I am amongst many who were touched when we read of her diagnosis. I grew up watching her show, and as an adult I have watched the reruns. What I didn’t understand as a child, I certainly understood more as I grew. I think above an appreciation of her work, I will carry with me the words that I needed to read this morning. They spoke to me. As a single Mom with adult children, and children still at home (3 of which have disabilities), I really did need to read those words this morning. Not just for myself, but to teach my children.  I pray her family has the strength and peace they need to face the goodbye and embrace the legacy she leaves. As for myself, In a few short hours I will finally embrace my son and say hello. It seems so weird how life can bring such opposite acts, that can produce the same lessons.

If you follow me on Facebook (My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce), I will be posting photos tomorrow. Until then, be safe and happy and above all else…. live, and don’t miss it.

My Big Fat Lesbian Life – Amazing What A Towel Can Do

In Uncategorized on May 8, 2012 at 11:04 pm

This might seem a bit crazy, but if you’ve ever endured the separation of property during a break up, you’ll completely understand my excitement.

I bought a paring knife.

It’s dawned on me that I no longer really have the small essentials that I used to have, before the marriage. I had some credit at The Kitchen Collection, and decided it was time to use it up. I’ve been doing a lot more cooking and trying out new recipes, and keep finding that the things I go to use, simply aren’t there anymore. I still need to get more pans, but that is going to be a month by month thing when the finances will allow. I have my eye on a set, but at 500.00 it’s not likely I will be able to purchase them anytime soon. Besides, storage space is pretty limited in my apartment. However, I do have room for a paring knife, so I picked one up while I was out.

I left the store feeling somewhat complete with my new paring knife and cutting board in tow. It almost felt a little like Christmas in May.

One thing I haven’t replaced by intention, is the microwave. I personally never used one much before I met her, so it wasn’t a deep loss to me when she took it. I guess thinking back I did replace it, but only for about a week or so. It sat on my counter virtually unused and I didn’t see a need to keep it sitting on the counter, so I took it back. But since then, I haven’t missed it and I have no intent to purchase another one anytime soon. I think I heated water a couple of times. I don’t need a 60.00 cup of heated water that bad.

It’s taken a year to rebuild some of the things that disappeared, but it’s the small things that have been the most exciting to me to gain. I think I literally smiled all the way home the day I bought new towels, handtowels and a lamp.

One thing I would love to get is a new bed. That stupid bed still sits in the room and I really just don’t like it. I want something that is my own. Something that is more my style and more my comfort. When that day comes, I am sure I will be smiling for weeks. Perhaps even sleeping in a bed again.

But for now, I will have perfectly peeled apples. That’s something to celebrate.

My Big Fat Lesbian Life – 1 year

In Uncategorized on April 4, 2012 at 2:00 pm

Today marks 1 year since I asked my now ex-wife to leave. 3 days later, I would begin writing this blog.

For those of you who have been following my journey since that first blog, you’ve witnessed my healing as its unfolded from my heart to your eyes. It’s been an amazing, though difficult, journey at times.

I read my first post again tonight. I remember writing it as I laid on the floor of the living room ( I couldn’t bring myself to sleep in the bed ) trying to make my mind stop racing as the tears flowed. Today there is no tears.

I still don’t sleep in the bed, but for much different reasons than before. It used to be because I missed her, but now it’s because with clarity I can see just what awful experiences took place in that thing. I am working towards buying a new bed that’s mine.

Here’s what the past year has brought me:

– My son was diagnosed with cancer. As of this moment, he is cancer free.

– I went sailing along the Willamette at sunset.

– I saw Ray Lamontange sing one of my favorite songs.

– I hiked up Beaver Rock. It was not my cup of tea, but I can say I did it.

– My friends reached out and touched my family with their generosity of love and bought us a van. They sent art work that meant something, for our home. They listened, they loved and everyday I am thankful for all they’ve done.

– I have grown as a woman, and have allowed the healing to bring more joy into my life instead of making me “stuck” in defeat.

– I’ve learned more about what it is I’m seeking in life, and setting standards. I just simply will not allow myself to be treated with such disregard again. I know I’m deserving of respect,
kindness and consideration.

– While a couple of blogs back I openly admitted my struggle of wondering if I am loveable or not, I know I am. Perhaps those years of being around reckless people was self sabotaging, because emotionally I was protecting myself from allowing people close. Who really knows… The thing that matters now, is that I know I am loveable because I know my heart.

– I stood strong this past year. I made life in a new city work, even though the person I moved for (never, ever again) didn’t. I learned a lot, but my children and I did it!

– The Leaky Roof Restaurant will hold its own special place in my heart for years to come. I first ate there this past year, and If you ever visit Portland Oregon, I highly recommend you make it a point to eat there.

There’s a lot more, of course. My life this past year has seen people come and go, saying Good-Bye to my friend Aaron, making resolution in my heart considering my Mother and saying Hello to myself.

I can look back a year later and thank God that I got out of that marriage. Otherwise I’d be writing a much different story, and probably not one of many victories. That’s not to say my tears were in vain, because every tear brought me that much closer to healing and growth. I feel free, liberated, excited.. I didn’t sit idle paralyzed by fear or grief. Instead I faced it, I found joy and I created peace. I moved on, instead of waiting for time to move me all on its own.

Yeah, I’m a pretty kick ass woman.

*tossing confetti and releasing balloons*

Happy Anniversary To Me!!!

Today, I am one year better.

My Big Fat Lesbian Life – I’m Angry. I’m Sad. I’m Hurt. I’m Angry.

In Aaron Jamison, Blog, cancer, Cancer Sucks, children, Choose Joy, christian, communication, connection, Crying, Current events, emotions, encouragement, Facebook, feelings, Friend, friendship, God, grief, healing, health, kindness, Lesbian, Life, Love, military, Mom, Oregon, Pain, parenting, people, pictures, Portland, portland oregon, Questions, relationships, religion, women, Writing on March 30, 2012 at 6:51 pm

A couple of days ago my son had his 4th surgery. This time, they removed half of his thyroid because of a growth.

If you’ve been reading my blog, you know I was expecting him home in April (he’s stationed overseas, Marines). I haven’t seen him once since his cancer diagnosis a year ago.

They’re not sending him home in April. In fact, it could be months before his discharge now.

He posted a pic of his surgical scar on his Facebook wall after surgery, and my heart just sank. Well meaning friends have tried to keep my eyes on the fact my son is still alive, getting care, and will be home. But I’m angry, and I need to be angry. Of course I’m thankful my son is still alive, in medical care, and will be home.

But I’m angry.

I’m angry that my son has cancer at 22. I’m angry I can’t be with him. I’m angry he has to have surgery. I’m angry he is left with the scars to remind the very real battle he is fighting. I’m angry that I can’t be angry and feel like I have permission to be angry.

I’m grieving. Anger is an important part of the process, and I can’t skip one piece to reach acceptance. It’s like building a bed, but eliminating the sides of the frame. If you don’t add all the pieces, it will just keep falling apart every time you lay down. Repeating the motion will produce the same result. I need to be angry, be free to be angry, be free to say it out loud and feel safe in doing so.

I know people mean well, and I’m blessed to have people in my life who love and care enough to want to remind me of what’s good. I love each and every one of them for it. I just need to be angry too, and be told its OK to hurt that my son is dealing with such big stuff in his life, and know that this feeling is normal as I watch my son stand through this. It doesn’t reflect on my faith, but rather the fact I’m human.

I’m sad, I’m hurt…

I’m angry…

and it’s OK.

My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – The Birth Control Mobile Rides Again

In blog, Cancer Sucks, Choose Joy, christian, Christmas, civil unions, coat hangers, communication, court, Crying, Current events, current events, dating, Divorce, divorce, Edgefield McMenamins, equality, Facebook, family, fast car, feelings, finances, Friend, friendship, gay, God, grief, healing, health, homosexuality, KVAL TV, Law, lesbian, lgbt, LGBTQ, love, minivan, New York, news, Pain, parenting, people, Politics, portland oregon, promises, Questions, Relationships, religion, same sex, single, sleep, stress, vehicle, vows, wedding, Wedding Ring, women, Writing on January 7, 2012 at 12:09 pm

If you’ve been reading along the past month or so, you know my ex wanted the van back because of a payment arriving one day late.

Here’s the blog link that explains what happened to the van – http://mybigfatlesbiandivorce.com/2011/10/19/my-big-fat-lesbian-divorce-the-van/

We’ve been without a vehicle (which I have always tenderly refered to as “The Birth Control Mobile”. I think with some government funding that I could be hired to do high school drive bys, with my all van windows down and all 6 children arguing over the Game Boy. I could give a reality check to some of the teens and possibly single handedly reduce teen pregnancy… OK so I doubt the government will fund this and the idea of enduring another sibling argument over a video game is a bit exhausting).

Honestly though, giving the van back worked to my advantage. She has the vehicle and I no longer have to make monthly payments on something that is breaking down. It just  makes the most financial sense for my family in the long run to be free from that previous obligation.

However, I was left without a vehicle and I was pretty scared. I was really happy to be rid of the financial obligation of that stupid van, but I was really worried about how I was going to go about the daily things I need to do, to take care of my family.

After looking around and asking people I knew about any possibile vehicles for sale, I had found a place that fixes vehicles donated and then sells them for the cost of repairs. They had one van that had extensive work done, and they were selling for 1,600.00. Clean, great condition, and an 8 seater. I haven’t been able to save up much, let alone 1,600.00, because I am still playing catch up on some bills since I asked the ex to leave, but this van seemed so perfect for my family. I’m almost on track with the finances, but not quite. I need that money tree to sprout about 2,000.00 for that to happen, but so far it’s been more of a pocket change twig.

I looked into some loans and other possibilities, but things kept falling through. I sighed a breath of relief in a way, because I really didn’t want to create more debt while I was working on getting caught up, but I was still trying to figure out how I was going to come up with the money for the van. This was/is a need. It’s not like I was out there trying to find something that was above and beyond what we need. Something to get us safely from point to point is all I was looking for, and this can fit the bill perfectly.

The garage selling the vehicle  had decided to reduce the price for me to 1,000.00 because they were really trying to help me out. 1,000.00 was still more than I had, in fact all I had was 400.00. At 1,000.00 I knew they were reducing the price to below the amount of money and time they had put into fixing the vehicle, but without the money, I still felt pretty hopless.

As things started to feel as though they were crumbling, I can’t even begin to described what happened other than love and human connection stood in the gap.

I received a message from a friend on Facebook, who wanted to know where she could send money towards the vehicle. She sent in a majority of the money I needed to purchase the vehicle, and with the 400.00 I had, I had the van paid for.

Then another friend put money towards the van, which helped pay for fuel.

Then another friend sent in money  to cover registration, and title transfer.

Then another sent in money to have both back tires and windsheild wipers replaced.

These calls jut kept coming in from the garage to tell me that my friends were calling in and putting towards the cost of the van. The woman on the other end of the phone was just so amazed and excited for us, that my friends were not only touching my life, but hers in the process as well.

The van is completely mine.

Knowing the people I have around my life, it doesn’t completely surprise me that they would step in and extend love and human connection and kindness the way they have. I simply know the most beautiful people. But it still moved me beyond belief. I was, and I still am, in complete awe of the kindness. I still look out my window just to look at the van and say a “thank you”. Even though I know it can’t be heard, I hope those who extended the kindness know it is still very much felt.

Someone gave anonymously, so I will never know to who I owe such a big thanks. But you are all truly amazing. These past months have been a journey for sure, but there are those  who have listened, cared, prayed, sent art, cards, phone calls, texts, messages, left comments, asked how we are doing, have taken me to coffee and all those things that friends do for one another. I want you all to know that I feel so loved. Not just because you extend compassion and love, but because you have been woven into my life to begin with.

Thank you soooo much

You are all truly amazing.

My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Failure… The Other “F” Word

In Blog, Break-up, Choose Joy, christian, civil unions, communication, court, Crying, Current events, dating, Divorce, divorce, domestic, equality, Facebook, failure, family, feelings, Friend, friendship, gay, gay marriage, God, grief, health, Lesbian, lesbian, lgbt, LGBTQ, Life, Love, love, Marriage, minivan, money, movies, New York, news, Oregon, Pain, Politics, Portland, portland oregon, promises, relationships, religion, same sex, sex, single, sleep, stress, vows, wedding, Wedding Ring, women, Writing, writing on November 21, 2011 at 6:00 am

I read the blog of another WordPress writer. She’s going through a divorce from her hubby, and I relate to some of the emotions she’s working through. She’s an absolutely amazing woman and I admire her courage as she shares her story.

She asked me a question that no ones asked before, but I’ve faced quietly many times with myself.

She asked me if I felt pressure not to have my marriage fail in light of the fact that marriage equality is becoming more and more of a reality. My response was….

“Excellent question.


I felt like I was a horrible representation of everything couples have worked so hard to achieve for years. But, it was my own crummy choice in a partner that put me there, so I had to make good choices to get out. I hope that is something anyone in a bad relationship, no matter the orientation, can see that it’s possible to emotionally survive. If you’ve loved, you’ve experienced. Grief still processes without prejudice and healing comes like a long lost friend.”

I have to say that the more I’ve thought about it, that yes… I feel like I’ve done such an injustice to the work, sacrifices and tears put into the fight to openly love and be married. I know not every relationship is going to work out, straight or gay, but I know people are watching when you’re in a partnership that’s seen as a marriage.

Politically and religiously some people are ready to pounce and shout “A HA! See? There’s no integrity in gay marriage!” and so ready to use the failures as support to endorse their beliefs that gay marriage is wrong.

Love should be allowed to be equally recognized between two loving adults, regardless of gender. But please don’t use the failure of my marriage as an example of limited possibilities of a loving marriage.

I hope that my getting out of a bad situation can be seen as a representation of what it means to make a stand to do the right thing. That may not be a lot to advance the fight for marriage equality right now, but it contributes to the advancement of me evolving more into the woman God created me to be, and that’s empowering.

Just because my marriage failed doesn’t mean it was a complete failure, I grew a lot from the experience. I walked away stronger than ever. Not all failures fail to produce something wonderful.

I’d still love to meet someone to share life with, because I still believe in love and marriage. Importantly, because through the failure of my marriage I learned I still believe in myself.

That’s pretty successful.