I could have drowned in my sadness

It filled the pit in which I sat…

Pouring over my face and neck

Making my feet cold and wet

As the pit filled, I let go

I let myself become immersed in the steady flow of hurt and the sting of uncertainty and shame

But I didn’t drown

I began to float and rise

When I looked around, I was no longer in the pit

I stood, dusted myself off and headed toward the sunrise

They have roots but the ground does not hold them hostage

They touch the sky and

They move slowly upward and branch out and they get wide

and they bloom and create

and they lose leaves and branches

but they grow new ones

and their beauty does nothing to add to or diminish their identity or worth

And they do the work of being trees alone but among others

They don’t compete or compare

And they don’t tell each other how to be or what to be ... they just are

And they stand together without having to say anything at all

WE HONOR

your authenticity

WE RESPECT

your radical and unique minds

WE APPRECIATE

your vulnerability

WE PROMISE

to do more listening

YOU make us better people

I was already prepared to leave my ex husband... but I was still doubting my decision... wondering if having time away would make things better.

I thought maybe we should just separate for a year.

And maybe I would get better and have more energy after a break.

But when I met her... the DAY I met her...

I felt this thing in my stomach I’d never felt before. Ever.

Like, this deep longing I’d never felt before. And I knew I could never settle for less than that feeling.

And I knew it was over. My marriage had to be over.

I didn’t think she and I would ever even be friends... but I knew I needed that feeling. That I could never be with someone who didn’t make me feel like I could shoot rainbows from my fingertips and sing like a million harps and float to the clouds.

If I must, I will wait forever for that feeling.

ME: you’re drunk.

Me: ha. Yeah.

ME: why?

Me: it feels good.

ME: why?

Me: I’m lonely.

ME: but I’m here.

Me: but are you enough?

ME: I don’t know.

I want to see the world!

I want to be scared.

I want to know things are big and feel awe.

I’m never afraid of anything because my pool is too shallow.

I want deep, dark water...

I want to do things I KNOW I won’t be good at to appreciate and experience them,

I want to love,

I want to take risks.

Fear is the place we grow.

It’s where we sink or swim.

I’d rather drown than stay confined to the shore.

I recently discovered I am romantic

I like sweet, little notes and accidental eye contact and lingering hugs and laughs that turn into a brushing of knees and hands and shoulders...

I love the way eyelashes flutter on cheeks in bashfulness...

I love the silence and the earthy, sweet smell of rain in the air after “I Love Yous” have snuck into the space

I love fingertips on fingertips and slowly grazing lush inner elbows

I love thoughtful text messages and the hum of vulnerable secrets and fears shared in moonlit conversation

I’m romantic

I went vegetarian 12 years ago and vegan 10 years later. I am currently a pescetarian. 

While vegetarian and vegan ideals appeal to me tremendously and align with my values (mainly the rejection of capitalist exploitation of people, land, animals and resources), I am unearthing a lot about myself and my motives this year. 

Autonomy is what it boils down to. It all comes down to the perceived right to say “no.”

Being vegan and vegetarian gave me a strong sense of autonomy I’d never felt the “right” to feel. I could be picky. I could have overt preferences. I could ask, even demand something special with little to no push back.

As an eldest, female child I learned not to rock the boat. Be a good girl, be easy, go with the flow, be agreeable. It rewards you with accolades and praise. “You’re easy to please” and “you’re going to be such a great wife one day” are huge compliments in Christian circles. If I had a dollar for everytime I heard “A man that findeth a wife, findeth a good thing” I’d be a billionaire. Good wives are “submissive.” I wanted more than anything in life to be a “good thing,” to be found, to be seen. 

 No one enjoys a difficult child. Few people enjoy difficult adults. I have always longed to be enjoyable. I ate what was prepared, I wore what was clean, I received what was given with gratitude. 

I did my best to follow the rules and any of my short-lived attempts to break free from this sort of compulsory, repressive molding were met with disappointment, confusion and intense disapproval from adults. Disapproval from those whom I desperately sought approval cut like a knife on fire.

That may seem more extreme and less nuanced than the reality but this was my perceived reality. That is how I felt. Sure, there were times I was allowed to make choices for myself, but the pressure to make the “right” choice was constantly looming. Which choice would be the choice my parents or mentors would make for me? That was how I made decisions, from childhood, into adulthood. 

I am not saying this is completely negative. I had a fine childhood. I have two amazing parents who did their very best and a phenomenal family. But we all have our struggles and our areas for growth. That’s just the way it is. 

Being vegetarian and vegan gave me the space to be choosy, to have preferences outside of the majority, to get special treatment without feeling guilty. 

Eating a completely plant based diet gave me a space to practice being different. It gave me a safe ground to try out having an unpopular preference. It gave me the opportunity to practice speaking up for myself, accepting the reality of scarcity and ridicule and unacceptance. Sometimes everyone else had steak and lobster, but my only option was a bowl of mistreated tomatoes, questionable carrots and wilted greens trying to pass as a salad. 

I needed that. I needed the space to unpack who I was becoming. And I was becoming who I’d always been. Thoughtful, curious, joyful, flexible and unsure, but solid. 

I fully accepted the fact that I am queer last year. It wasn’t easy and took almost an entire year of therapy. It’s one thing to have a hint of same sex attraction, trendy even. But to realize the same sex attraction is actually dominant, that having a partner of the opposite sex was no longer really an option for me… that was hard. 

But the relief in being able to say “no” is thrilling.

 The absolute freedom in having an unabashed preference is effervescent.

 The ability to understand there will be tables where I can no longer eat because of this truth is something I can live with. 

I practiced it for the last 12 years as a vegetarian.

Even still, the depth of color of moss in the forest breaks my heart

Shades of floral emerald taste like buttery, savory limes

And sound like softly humming celli in the distance

 Flirting with the soil, laying with water and sauntering up tree trunks

In a silent affair with the sun

those green patches move me to tears

The color true, the texture deep and soft

I wish to be like moss

Vulnerable, resilient, polyamorous 

Thriving in spite of the season

A place to find rest and unafraid to grow

Securely mounted, but lacking roots to hold me down

Lush and hidden unless you seek me...