proud

i am working on a longer post, but it is taking me a while because i have a summer cold and have been trying to sleep it away.

june is lgbt pride month. (such a fitting time for me to completely end my silence.)

i just wanted to take a few minutes to tell you how proud i am.

i'm proud to be me. and to do the work i am doing. to say the things i say. to love the way i love.

i am also proud to be friends with such wonderful people who don't stop at tolerating me, or accepting me, but who celebrate with me.

i recently came out to a friend, and she said. "congratulations!"

i love it.

and i love you.

and i am proud to have such wonderful community.

hand in hand in Hand

i had never been to washington d.c.

it was early march of this year, and the air outside was still cold and brisk.

we got there on a friday night. our little caravan. me and three of my friends (all of whom i was just getting to know). we drove together from tennessee. we met up with several others, some we knew. some we would get to know. all we would love. as we were gathering to celebrate

love.

two of our dear friends, both women. marrying one another, committing themselves to love one another for life. til the end of their days. and our commitment to love and support them.

the weekend was filled with laughter, hugs, tears, and poignant moments.

i sat across the breakfast table from some wonderful gay male couples. they were getting married that weekend as well. one man thanked a friend of mine for "living in the trenches" in the south. he had tears in his eyes. i did, too.

one of those couples had been together for 17 years.

the other?

30 years together.

and for their anniversary?
a legal marriage.

i cried when i found out.
i cried again when we passed by them just as their ceremony had ended.
i cried many times as i thought about it again.

another poignant moment for me was when my friends who were getting married reached over, touched me, looked into my eyes, and said in earnest, "we want this for you, too."

the ceremony was beautiful.
my favorite wedding i have ever been to.
not just because it was a lesbian wedding,
but because of how communal it was.

it was truly a celebration and gathering
of love
in its various forms.

perhaps my favorite moment of the weekend captures it best.

just before the wedding, we all walked and rode the subway throughout d.c. while the photographer took pictures. literally, just before the wedding.

the brides were both in their beautiful gowns, and we were all in our attire for the evening.

as we walked around d.c. , most people smiled, waved
some even honked their horns.
one girl hung out a car window and yelled, "we love your dress!"
a little girl said my friends were "soooo beautiful."

at the restaurant the reception was at, a mom told her children that my friends had just gotten married and told her children to say "congratualtions" to them.

all of these moments moved me deeply.

however, there was one image/moment that is seared into my mind
and i hope it always is.

we were all walking down the sidewalk in downtown d.c., heading for the subway station.

at the front of the line
the brides were walking next to each other
in their wedding dresses
hand in hand

behind them
two lovely guys
who are marrying each other very soon
hand in hand

behind them
a lovely "straight" couple
who are also marrying each other very soon
hand in hand

just behind them
my friend, "s" and i
in complete admiration

we kept looking at each other and all the hands
we talked about how beautiful it was,
all those representations of love

then she took my hand
and said "we're friendship."

and we walked that way
hand in hand.

a few months later, she would take my hand again
and she held it while i was having trouble sleeping
and i held hers and told her how much it meant for her to be there.

and we walked through my damaged neighborhood
the morning after the tornado
surveying the damage

hand in hand.

i was thinking about how beautiful both of these instances are.

there is another.

i was feeling alone.
a friend of mine was holding her boyfriend's hand
she took mine too
and we walked that way
hand in hand

and another.

i was sitting in a chapel service.
a man was talking about gay people
he was wrong. i was angry.
a friend of mine took my hand.
we sat there.
hand in hand.

oh, another.

i was in church.
the speaker said something about heaven
that it is continued relationship with those we love
my friend had lost someone. i had too.
i took her hand. she gripped mine.
we sat that way.
hand in hand.

what if we became more attuned to taking one another's hand?
what if we broke across the distance and the social norms and held hands more often?
what if we didn't care what people think?
what if we cared more about the connection? the communion? the communication?

holding another's hand says:
i love you.
i am here.
i am unashamed to say i am with you.
i see you
i feel you.
you can see me.
you can feel me.
i've got you.
you've got me.

what if people held hands with people who are different than them?
and then looked into each other's eyes?

what if we realized that when we are hand in hand
we are really
hand in hand
in Hand?

that God, Godself
Love. Loveself
holds us.
holds our hands.
in Hand.

would we walk more freely?
hand in hand?

would we make brave choices
in whose hands we hold?

to realize what is good
what is healthy
what is uplifting?

where we can mend?
where we can heal?
where we can cross the divide?

where we can be mended?
where we can be healed?
where our sad divisions have ceased?

we can.
we would.
we must.

walk hand
in hand
in Hand.

nail

a while back ago, i wrote a journal entry about what it is like to live in the closet.

Closet (2/10/09; midnight)

This is the way my closet once was ->

It was a world, the world in which I lived

But more like a shadow because I was afraid to come to life. I was not fully known. There was a bed and books – books about being gay and the rightness/wrongness arguments, the Bible, and people’s experiences. There were letters to the outside – little hints and conversations to see whether or not it was safe to come out. There was a noose on the ceiling with no windows or light. But there was no ladder or chair to reach the noose because suicide was a constant thought, but I never had the means or full desire to carry it out.

Now my closet has a revolving door. Sometimes I am allowed the freedom to step outside and breathe the air and bask in the sunshine which so many take for granted. I can be known and am known by some and I am getting stronger for it. I am moving out some of my possessions. I no longer sleep there and I am bringing the books out into the light so I can see them better. The noose has been cut down, and I am feeling alive. Sometimes, I must retreat to my closet and poke my head out the revolving door to see when it’s safe to exit once more.

One day, I will exit for good. And I will bring all of my stuff with me. I will board up the door with hammer and nails and enlist my friends to help me. I want to make sure that neither I nor anyone else can be trapped in that closet again.

People do not live in closets… skeletons do. And skeletons are only shadows of persons who once were. There is no life. No potential. No beauty. Only death and decay.

Outside, there is sun, earth, and rain – a place to grow and become. A place to be. A place to live.

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more than 2 years has gone by since that entry, and it still grabs me. i think it gets at the heart of some of the pain i endured. by not being myself. by hiding part of myself.

well, i will have you know that the hammer has been in my hand this weekend.
i have driven in the final nail in the boards i have placed over my closet door.

many of you, dear dear friends helped me board by board. step by step.

now i am

out

truly

out.

out of that place of shame and death and decay and into what my dear friend called a sweet boon, and he should know.

i am in life. and living.

i am becoming and growing.

and i am loving

and seeing

and breathing in the air... basking in the sun... letting the rain fall on my face...

no. more. hiding.

the nail.

it will not be removed.

no one, not i nor my dearly loved friends and family,

will ever be limited by it again.

it is beautiful and freeing.

i am beautiful. i am free. with a new kind of freedom i have only dreamt of.