pride

“You have some queer friends, Dorothy,' she said.The queerness doesn't matter, so long as they're friends,' was the answer” ― L. Frank Baum

why do i get so excited about a million queers coming together to celebrate our diversity and our strength and our pride? 

first of all ... i hate crowds. no, you don't understand, i HATE crowds. i also hate the heat. i hate wandering aimlessly up and down the street. i hate being bumped into. i hate people smoking in the crowds and having to breathe in the smoke. 

so ... why do i love pride weekend? 

we live in toronto, where queer people are somewhat accepted. i am out to my family, friends, colleagues, health care workers, therapist, without issue. i am NOT out to my students. or their parents. because it doesn't feel safe. 

safety. 

i love pride weekend because you can be out and open and express yourself in the safety of the village, surrounded by other queers who get your story, who get your experience. 

“That's one of the things that "queer" can refer to: the open mesh of possibilities, gaps, overlaps, dissonances and resonances, lapses and excesses of meaning when the constituent elements of anyone's gender, of anyone's sexuality aren't made (or can't be made) to signify monolithically.” ― Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick

i remember my first queer pride experience. i was 17 and with an amazing group of friends. we were overwhelmed and amazed. we were shocked by so much that we saw. i wasn't out to many people yet, and it was incredible to be surrounded by queers from all over who were welcoming and happy and celebrating. my first introduction to the queer world was happiness. 

“What I love about being queer is... Everything. I like that it makes me different, and I like that it makes people uncomfortable sometimes. I like that it makes people ask me lots of questions about things they probably would not normally ask people about their relationships or lifestyles. And most of all I love being queer because i get to have a girlfriend.” ― Tegan Quin

over the years, i have done things like walk topless down yonge street with glitter on my breasts, spend hours in the beer garden at the 519 community centre sitting and talking with friends, people watching, walking up and down the street aimlessly for hours, sitting on the street watching people walk by and guessing their stories. 

and the one thing that remains the same is the feeling of community. the feeling of belonging. 

this year, i am missing the pride festivities because i have a choir performance. i have been pissed off about it for months. but as i was thinking about it this morning, i came to realize that my big gay choir is my big gay family - including the annoying cousins, the rude aunts, the creepy uncles, and the dearest hearts. 

so this year, i am not "missing" pride, i am spending it singing with my big queer family on a big gay stage being annoyed, being happy, being out, being proud, being strong, being silly, being irritated, being mad, being giddy, being excited, and being human. 

happy pride!

be kind to yourself, 
xoxo

“Are you queer? she said.Me? Yea, I'm queer as a coot.You dont look it.Is that right? You know a lot of queers?You dont act it I guess I should say.Well darlin what would you know about it?I dont know.Say it again.What?Say it again. I dont know.I dont know.That's good. You need to practice that. It sounds good on you.” ― Cormac McCarthy

...

CRBDAC 6 months later ...

i'm proud of me, 

sometimes, 

some days. 

i told radical t today that it's been 6 months since i abused sedatives. i told her that nosy nora suggested i write about it. i also told her that it's no big deal. i believe i said "it is what it is." 

radical t suggested that perhaps there was more to it than that. that if it wasn't a big deal i wouldn't have told her. that perhaps there was something deeper there. 

am i proud? 

sometimes. 

to be honest, it feels like 6 months was a lifetime ago. 

6 months ago i was terrified of the word "addiction" and preferred nosy nora's description of "continued repetitions of behaviours despite adverse consequences" or CRBDAC. 

6 months ago i was sneaking gravol, or whatever sedative i could find to help me sleep, to help me feel numb, to help me turn off my brain ...

i no longer think about where there might be gravol hiding ... like under the couch cushions or stuffed in an old suitcase. and i also know that there aren't any in the house anymore. 

even though there are nights i lay awake wishing i was sleeping, there are nights where i do sleep and i know that i don't need sedatives. 

if you don't know what i am talking about, go back and read this post: http://aprilgigiangels.blogspot.ca/2014/03/sobriety-and-numbness-aka-crbdac.html

but mostly, i have learned that it is okay to feel things. even when those feelings are difficult and painful. 

feelings come and go. 

as captain stressy pants likes to tell me, feelings aren't good or bad, they just are. 

nosy nora says feelings are just feelings and they will pass. and she also says that it's okay to feel them. 

i have been given permission to have those nasty mean feelings that i never let myself have before - like being angry, and jealous. 

feelings are hard. i spent 30 years trying to avoid feelings. and 6 months learning to allow them. i had to make a list of feeling words. there is nothing worse than when i'm asked how i feel ... because i often don't know. i wasn't taught to talk about my feelings. i wasn't given the vocabulary. 

i couldn't have gone on this journey without the help of SC, my friends, and nosy nora. so thank you to all of you who have listened to me, who have guided me, and who have not judged me. 

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

...

adoption

“Because now I know what I have been waiting for. I know exactly why the other processes didn't work. I know I was supposed to wait for this little girl.” ― Nia Vardalos

Adoption: the legal transfer of parental rights and obligations from birth parents to adoptive parents.

Dear readers,

DP and I are in the adoption screening process. I call it a process, but a better word might be interrogation … ordeal … trial … tribulation … inquiry … tribunal …

“There are times when the adoption process is exhausting and painful and makes you want to scream. But, I am told, so does childbirth.” ― Scott Simon

The process to become declared “adoption ready” is 

long, 

                 invasive, 

                                  emotional,

 intense, 

                         and a lot of work.

It begins with paperwork. 

Piles and piles of paperwork. 

Questionnaires about our lives, and personal habits, and our relationship. 

Intrusive questions.

Then there is the course. Parenting Resource Information Development and Education (PRIDE). 3 hours a week for 9 weeks. With topics like abuse and neglect and the effects on children. With homework each week that is evaluated by the instructors and then sent to the social worker who is doing the safe home study.

The safe home study.

“Despite the reams of paperwork, obstacles worthy of a horse show, and a wait that can rival an elephant's gestation, adoption feels no different on the inside.” ― Scott Simon

A social worker comes to your home and asks you a million questions to get to know you. And needs copies of everything you can think of from your birth certificate, to your taxes, to your life, car, and home insurance policies. This is followed by 3 or 4 more interviews by the social worker who wants to know everything about your life. And finishes up with an inspection of your house looking for things like working smoke detectors, carbon monoxide detectors, and a fire extinguisher. As well as things like furniture secured to the wall and a map of all the fire escape plans for each floor of your house.

And that is just the logistics of the process.

“Even though you weren't born to us, you grew in our hearts. We will be forever connected because love is what makes a family.” ― Deanna Kahler

What goes through your mind while you jump through hoop after hoop is wtf? You think about all those children out there, born to parents who don’t want them, who neglect and abuse them, who mistreat them, and who don’t cherish every moment with them. And you think about how unfair it is that those “parents” were able to just get pregnant and have children and not care for them and we have to go through all of this to get on a list.

So how do I get up every morning and do the next step? Jump through the next hoop? How do I sit through 3 hours of a course I resent having to take?

“Anyone who ever wondered how much they could love a child who did not spring from their own loins, know this: it is the same. The feeling of love is so profound, it's incredible and surprising.” ― Nia Vardalos

How do i keep my hope alive?

I think about the fact that out there in the world right now, somewhere in this city, there is a baby … my baby … s/he was born to parents who are not his/hers. s/he is in care, in a foster home, waiting for us to find her/him. Our baby is out there, and every night I think about our baby and wonder what her/his favourite toy is, and what song s/he likes to be sung. What does s/he like to eat?  And I send warm, loving thoughts, out into the universe to find their way to our baby who we are waiting for. 

out there is the baby that will make me a mother. maybe i am already a mother to him/her. i already love her/him ... s/he just hasn't met us yet. 

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

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