human rights

I Don’t Care

I have a thought wandering around. I hope it makes sense. Follow along and see if you can read what I really mean…

“I don’t care” sounds harsh, and it can be. It can mean apathy or disdain. It can mean a lack of concern for another human…

“I don’t care” can also be the kindest words you can ever say to another person…

I don’t care…what you did in the past.

I don’t care…who you were.

I don’t care…that you made mistakes.

I don’t care…what you see…

I care that you survived. I care that you are someone else. I care that you grew. I care that you exist in the World. I care, and I am glad, you invited me in so I can say, “I don’t care what you, or anyone else, thinks. To me, you are valuable and loved”

Perhaps, we need more “I don’t care…”

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Women…

Usually, I write right after I wake up. That’s when my brain remembers what it wants to say and it hasn’t gotten distracted by being engaged with thinking. Today isn’t usually…so, maybe this goes into the Great Draft Pile in the Sky…or I decide to eff it and post the damn thing…*editorial, it’s already going downhill because I’m very rarely profane here. “Not here” my favorite word starts with an eff…*

…I have never been a person that engaged in casual sex. It has, every time, been with a person that I thought I could see the potential for “forever” with. I have encouraged others to “get laid” but, just not me. *I don’t mean to get into my own sexuality other than that bit because it applies to the train of thought*

I wouldn’t cheat on my wife if it was offered. Couldn’t. Having said that, the people I seem to like and talk to most are women. Perhaps, because sex has never been casual, it’s because, unlike most cishet males, women have never been “sex objects” to me. Yes, I am able to, and do, see an attractive woman as an attractive woman but, not as an “it” for me to imagine “between the sheets”. Hope this is making sense.

I suppose the reason I like women as people to talk is because, it seems to me, that there is less pretense in their core thinking. The thought, as I’m pondering, is that like my favorite poet, Kipling, alluded to is that the cost of the continuation of the species to y’all leaves very little room for self-delusion. When the upside is surviving childbirth and the downside is fatal, the cost is far greater than what the male has invested in the process…

Anyway…

Yeah, the train of thought drifted away…

Oh yeah, I think that the reason men treat y’all, women, like objects is that we realize that we are scared and in awe of y’all. Truthfully, I’m not sure I could handle the physical and emotional investment that procreation, not sex, involves for y’all all. It’s easier to demean and diminish what we fear than it is to acknowledge it, the fear I mean…

Why do we, men, fear y’all? Is it that childbirth/pregnancy/motherhood scares us? Is it that we realize that, physically, we have done more wrongs to women than y’all have done to us? Is it, again to paraphrase Kipling, that we realize that y’all HAVE to be fearless and far more ruthless than we do? Is it that, at the bottom of things, we wish to possess that which we have no right to own and realizing our weakness, fear our own weakness?

Look y’all, I have male acquaintances and one guy I think of as a close friend but, when I meet someone and think “this person MIGHT be someone I would like to trust as a friend”, invariably she’s a woman. I expect to be lied to by a guy. I expect that they will be a braggart, shallow, and craven. I expect that they will be little substance and all surface. Most times I’m correct.Sure, women like to dress and maintain their appearance but, women dress for themselves, not for others. Men dress to brag. That, in of itself, speaks volumes…

This was such a well-formed thought when I was thinking it…

Perhaps just to end the thought…

I don’t know why there’s even a human race left. I don’t know why women have let us men survive. We haven’t earned it. Our treatment of the other 49.6% of the world has really proved that our only truly useful function is as sperm donors…guys, we need to get over ourselves…

*****

My attitude isn’t quite as harsh as this comes across. I do, however, believe that we, men, need to change our attitudes toward those that gave birth to us.

*****

One parting thought. This is what I’ve paraphrased throughout this…

Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

The Female of the Species

WHEN the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

When Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man,
He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it if he can.
But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws,
They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws.
‘Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts pale.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

Man’s timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,
For the Woman that God gave him isn’t his to give away;
But when hunter meets with husbands, each confirms the other’s tale—
The female of the species is more deadly than the male.

Man, a bear in most relations—worm and savage otherwise,—
Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise.
Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a fact
To its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act.

Fear, or foolishness, impels him, ere he lay the wicked low,
To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe.
Mirth obscene diverts his anger—Doubt and Pity oft perplex
Him in dealing with an issue—to the scandal of The Sex!

But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frame
Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same;
And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,
The female of the species must be deadlier than the male.

She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast
May not deal in doubt or pity—must not swerve for fact or jest.
These be purely male diversions—not in these her honour dwells—
She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else.

She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her great
As the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate.
And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claim
Her right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same.

She is wedded to convictions—in default of grosser ties;
Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him who denies!—
He will meet no suave discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild,
Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child.

Unprovoked and awful charges—even so the she-bear fights,
Speech that drips, corrodes, and poisons—even so the cobra bites,
Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw
And the victim writhes in anguish—like the Jesuit with the squaw!

So it comes that Man, the coward, when he gathers to confer
With his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her
Where, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring hands
To some God of Abstract Justice—which no woman understands.

And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave him
Must command but may not govern—shall enthral but not enslave him.
And She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail,
That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male.

Who Put You In Charge?

You can’t be a (blank) because I decided you don’t fit MY standards of what that is…

So, just a question, who put you in charge?

*sigh*…

This one is just something that irks the crap out of me. The comment was on a pic that a friend posted on Facebook saying that the person in the pic wasn’t really Pagan. This is just an example. Apparently, though, I am not a “real Christian” because of my views toward the people I know that are Pagan or LBGT. Some of my friends aren’t “really gay” because they have children. Some of my Pagan friends aren’t Pagan enough to be “real” Pagans because they have “mixed” views on spirituality….and we can skip the entire set of political views that aren’t far enough to one end of the curve or the other to suit the ends…

Who decides? Do I get to claim a view or a path or do you get to tell me? Here’s a hint…while I value some humans views of what I am and what my friends are, those humans have earned the right to tell me, the rest might be better served contemplating why they would exclude someone that wants to be part of their group and give them support. If I call myself Heretic Christian, and I do, that means I am still Christian. If someone claims a faith, without sharing the inside of their Heart and Head, who are we to say they are not that? Every person is different. We all have our own ways of doing things.

Look, guys, from my end, I’d rather have someone that isn’t EXACTLY like me sharing my road and giving support than someone else blindly following my words without applying their own sense of reason. *editorial, I AM NOT giving approval of “participation trophies”. You have to reach the goal but, in the cases, I’m describing you get to set the target, not someone else*…

My other point, if you think someone isn’t (blank) enough to suit you, perhaps you are the person that needs the work and not them…

 

It’s Kind of a Year End Post

June 26, 2015… Writing about Pagans and maybe making some tiny bit of sense and reaching out to them…Saying nice stuff about Aj, Kelly, and Z…Fewer posts but, better writing…Those were the blog’s highlights.

Having to do research and finding out that unreasoned hate will never die…That will always be the hardest part.

These were my favorite posts…Which One is Pagan? Please Do Me a Favor You Are Not Damaged, You Are Loved There Is Nothing About This I Want to Write  What the Hell Was He Thinking I Was an Addict So, Don’t Praise Me*note, some of these were NOT FUN to write* There are probably more but, I’m too lazy to look them up. *grins*

You will see a common thread. I write for and about women unless it is specifically about me. The reason is simple, my closest friends are women. I trust them. I married a woman. When I need advice about a post, that’s who I go to. When I need advice about my marriage, why go a man? When I need the truth without someone going all Testosterone Bubba, I go to a woman. My marriage isn’t threatened by them because I am faithful, I swore an oath. So, given that, I write for people I know and love.

I don’t know what the new year will bring. I just wanted to write a year end post. Thanks to Aj, Kelly, and Z for your love and trust. Thanks to the other ladies that made “guest appearances”. Thanks to y’all for reading this.

Different

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been a long couple of weeks. There’s a thought rolling around in here. I’ll try to get it to germinate and come out the way I want it to…

We don’t have to do something to support it or the people behind it. Where this is going may start with this example. A friend, Shelby, loves Halloween. I don’t. I REALLY don’t. Among other things, it makes my nightmares worse. What I do support is Shelby. She takes a huge amount of pleasure from that holiday. As another Pagan friend told me, it’s like Christmas. As a result, I have been collecting and posting a Halloween Album on FB for her. *editorial, FB is a weakness of mine. go figure* I am enjoying watching her reaction to the daily update and seeing the pictures she likes. She realizes that I am doing it for her and appreciates it. I hope this makes sense. My enjoyment is coming from the person behind something I don’t enjoy…and is giving me a reason to enjoy the holiday myself…

We are conditioned to believe that we must be in opposition to difference. “If you aren’t with us, you’re against us.”

I am not gay, yet Z is. Not only do I not oppose her, I encourage her. I want her to find companionship and love. I hope she does kiss girls. I’ll always support her and her life. I also am not Pagan. I’ve been taught that because I’m Christian, I MUST oppose my Pagan friends. The thing is, I don’t. Why should I be against the faith of some of the people that are dearest to me in the world? I want Aj, Kelly and Shelby, and the rest to enjoy and find meaning from their faith.

I watch and talk to and trust those Ladies. They, and their lives, are parts of what I count on for support in mine. I find that I need them as examples of faith and love. I see that they are unashamedly themselves. They are open with their beliefs and their lives. Those things are worth respect. Those things, the specifics, are also not my path. So what?

That’s the point I’m trying to make. Don’t look at the differences, look at the person. Don’t judge them as wrong because they do things that you do not. Look at the character and the life, see the Human living it. Different doesn’t equal wrong. It merely equals a perspective that is not your own.

I’m going to cheat, here. I’ll quote a FB status I wrote the other day and end…

“I have friends that are gay. I love and treasure them. I have friends that are Pagan. I love and treasure them. I am neither and, yet, they love and treasure me. Getting along with people that are “differently normal” lets us find people we love and treasure. Who doesn’t need more of both?”

note to self

 

I’ve been writing this post over a period of several days. I’m leaving it “rough” because it was really intended to be a note to me. It turned into a “real” post. It is barely edited and going to stay that way. Guys, I’m beat. Tired. Worn out. These are what has come out of my head. Sure, it’s a post about people that are LBGT.  It’s also about a specific person and it’s really a post about us. How do we see people and how do we see ourselves. If we don’t find a reason to stop our fear of people that are different, we, collectively, are going to implode. We gotta find common ground, please.

*****

It starts out with the notes I was working from. It seems disjointed after that because I didn’t do any editing or try to make it completely connected…

It drifts off at the end and that’s gonna have to be enough. Thanks for reading it.

*****

more honey than vinegar…gently persuade…patience…time…less stress about people not seeing what I see…want to build a bunker with concertina wire and protect Z but, CAN NOT…Z more patient than me, gotta learn from her…hearts and minds…fight reaction to be a growling dog protecting The Muse…

*****

These are the things The Muse wants me to do. She wants me to realize that people won’t change just because the Law did. She wants me to be patient and try to change “hearts and minds” with kindness and being non-confrontational.

It’s hard for me. I do take words that are directed at other people than her as being directed at her. My instinct is to protect her from those words and perceived hurts. My desire is to shelter. Given my way, I’d be a dog, growling at everyone I thought came close to not loving her.

I know that’s not fair to her. She can defend herself. She is more than strong enough and completely capable.

She’s protecting me. She’s trying to make me understand that I don’t need the stress. That the frustration is not good for me. She’s trying to change my “heart and mind”. See why she’s such a Treasure. This is why. I write for and about her and she’s my protector, too…A couple of stories…

During May and June, we had a bunch of storms and flooding. Here, D/FW, it was particularly bad. I’m used to it, at least as much as you can ever be to Tornado Warnings. She was constantly calling and praying. One night we were talking and lost the chat because a lightning strike close by dumped my internet. I wasn’t worried. Again, I’m kind of relaxed about the whole thing. It either hits and is a total loss or it’s a miss. SHE, on the other hand, was worried as she could be. I had to phone her up and let her know everything was fine, just a lost signal…See what I mean, protecting me…

‘Nother part of me is that I tend to stress and worry about random stuff. In an absence of knowledge, my mind races along ’till it’s close to twisting outta control. Not a good trait of mine. I let myself wind up. I tend to inflict it on her and my wife. She peels me off the ceiling. Lets me rant and then reminds me to calm down. That it’ll be ok. Helps me to realize my fears and worries are unfounded…

My Protector helps me to be a better husband and person by doing something that isn’t her job. She’s not my wife or girlfriend so, it can’t be part of what one of those would have “signed-up” for. *editorial, no girlfriend for me, ever. I’m married and faithful* She allows me to use her as a safety valve. To dump MY stress on her. To relate my nightmares to her so I can be a bit saner. She prays for me every day and, usually, is praying for stuff that I didn’t realize I needed ’till it happens. My world is safer because of Z…

It’s an odd role reversal. I mean, these words and posts have been to help her and make her world a better place. They’ve been to build her up. That’s in here and out there. They’ve been to tell her that, to me, she’s a Hero. I’m sure she doesn’t think she is. I do. Thing is, she makes my world a better place. She builds me up. She never lets me get away with saying that what I’ve done *see previous posts about being an ex meth addict* is not also worthy of praise, too. I don’t quite understand but, she treats me like a hero…

So…how do we go about this? How do we change hearts and minds? Bashing people over the head is not working. That is my instinct. To pick up Z, shove her into the spotlight, and shout “how can you fools not love her?” To use her as a bludgeon. She’s right. That is not the way that’s going to make a long-term change.

*sigh*

A “pride” parade didn’t change my mind. A screaming rights activist didn’t give me reason to see the error of my ways. What did was more like the mountains being turned into sand by the gradual actions of the waves. I didn’t have some epiphany. It was a process. It took some years. Lots of baby steps and realizations. Z came along towards the end. She wasn’t the first step but, the last. She was the end of a line of people. She says “educate”. Her life is that way. She teaches by being herself. I should know, it’s how she taught me…

We were friends before I knew she wasn’t straight. Kind of an “how’s that?” moment, right? No context for it. I’m married, wasn’t when we met but, engaged. I didn’t want or need a date, girlfriend, or anything else. She was just someone I talked to sometimes. We’re both “chatty”. Ugh. So, it never really had a reason to be a topic. I was talking to a person and not a potential anything else. When she finally did let me know or I figured it out by reading between the lines, it was a bit of a shock…for about a day. Then my I realized nothing had changed. Same person was still the same person. I mean, we had been praying for each other for a couple of years and I didn’t know. She might have thought I knew? Ask her.

That’s how she “educates”. She lives her life and at some point you realize she’s a person you want in yours. Easy enough, knowing her. Because there’s no context, you don’t realize she’s not straight. Not that she’s hiding it, just no reason to come up. I thought she was a fellow Ally. Then she tells you. She is blunt. At which point you realize nothing has changed in your relationship.

She’s far better at that than I am. I want to shout at people. I want to force them to realize that she’s great. She just goes about her business and lets them figure it on their own.

Here’s another odd thing about the way she educates. Even though she doesn’t like it, she’s far more forgiving of people that dislike her on principle than they are of her. She’ll defend their right to speak against her while she’s snarling mad at them for doing it. That and even though she’ll never admit it, the comments hurt. Still, she keeps defending their right to speak if not their words…

****Break to go to work and stuff. more later******

Here’s what I’m thinking. For me, it becomes a matter of perception. I mean, what do I see when I look at someone? Do I see the part I disagree with and ignore the rest, first? Or, do I do it the other way ’round? Do I see the parts I agree with and ignore the disagree? There are things that I do that Z doesn’t. She doesn’t beat me up with them, she ignores them. Same with me, there are things she does that I can not have in my life. No matter, I just stay away from those things. Make sense, sort of?

She’s human with the same courage and fear as any other human. She’s capable of the same soaring triumphs and crushing defeats. She’s a mother, daughter, cousin and friend. She can be as soft as a cloud and harsh as sandpaper. She’s just the same as every other Mortal. Her fears and frailties keep her up at night…just like mine…Her shoulders carry me along when I want to quit. Human, no more and no less…That’s what I see and am glad for it.

Everyone is the same way. No two people fit the same mold. There are always things we wish people would change.

*****

While I’m writing this, here’s another thought. We, Americans, are constantly, me specifically, saying what we are against. Maybe we can think of what we are for. I’ve written all these words for Z. I’ve written to her, about her, and for her. My weakness is that I have to struggle against the “us against them” attitude. How do we include? How do we find common ground? How do we say, “you’re different but…so am I.”

I gotta learn that lesson. I gotta learn to not want to lash out. Me, I, need to be more gentle in the way I think and try to teach. Particularly, I gotta do that when my instinct is to protect.  A Wise Woman keeps telling me that I can do more with honey than vinegar. She’s right.

I wish I didn’t write these. More correctly, I like writing good things about Z. What I mean is I wish I didn’t think there was a need for them. I wish that we could find some middle path. That we could agree to reduce our total stress. That we could figure out a modus vivendi and learn to live in peace. I’m idealistic, I know. I keep thinking that we have the ability to set aside our perceptions and see what is really true. I know I struggle against myself with that. It is hard. I had to overcome years of conditioning and prejudice. I do not even pretend otherwise.

*sigh*

I suppose I’m just getting tired. I don’t have the energy to spare on fights that aren’t mine. It could be said that this one isn’t except that it is Z. That, to me, as long as she lives and I do, I have picked her side to be for, not against. Not because she’s a Lesbian but, because of the rest of her. I’m writing for the whole of the person that she is. I wonder if that makes sense outside of my head? That my attempt to persuade to see the whole still includes the parts and says the whole is “greater than the sum”?

Please learn from what I had to learn to do. I removed the good because I wanted to see only what I disagreed with. I based my opinion, not on fact but on my perception. My views were wrong. My excuses, in the end, only let me hang on to anger and stress and changed nothing. She says she “educates” by living her life. Please learn from mine, too. My mistakes don’t have to be repeated.

Some Boxes in the Attic

I’m gonna clean out the attic. There are some boxes up there that need to be poked into. Maybe there are treasures, maybe junk. Let’s see which and we can both decide…

*****

I was thinking about something I said and Z called me on. I used the phrase “predisposed to like girls that like girls”. It sounds like, in retrospect that my preference is for Lesbian friends or female friends. Z even pointed that out. It bugged me and stuck in my head. I have a tendency to waaaaaay over think things. It is possible that it is the truth, even if its not a conscious thought. I really didn’t set out to have my closest friends be women. It has struck me as odd that it worked out that way. Who knows? I mean, it isn’t part of some interview process. “Would you like to become someone I talk to and some years down the road trust? Oh yeah, are you a Lesbian?”

I don’t love Z because she’s a “girl that likes girls”. I love her because she’s Z. We don’t need a list of things that make her who she is, I would still miss stuff. It’s enough to say that she, as a person, is a Treasure. I’m not gonna think it any further through than that. I will give it this, though, if she weren’t gay, this blog wouldn’t exist in the form that it does. I HAVE to have a person to write for and about. It’s part of me. I am good with specific people, not so much a “demographic”. The numbers are just too big…

*****

Yesterday, I wrote about my addiction and it sounded like I was down on myself or putting down what I’ve done. I’m really not. Like I told someone, some days are almost easy, some are hard as Hell. It’s been almost ten years and it isn’t a walk in the park. I still have nightmares. I wake up yelling…like last night. My wife is patient, she just wakes me up and then goes back to sleep.

Anyway, not to make light of things, I’m a Meth Survivor. I know that’s a rare thing. I know I have a bunch of baggage, read “boxes in the attic”. I merely have this perspective, pardon me quoting something I said to someone else, “What I beat was done BY me. What y’all beat was done TO you. Just as you think I overcame something seemingly insurmountable, from here, it seems the same to me about you. I can not imagine how hard it was. Y’all are my heroes, too.” Does that make sense? I made my bed. I wasn’t an addict when I was born. I had a chance to stop every time I started…and didn’t. I suppose that’s why I don’t think it’s that big a deal. That and I really don’t know how to handle compliments or praise. I just don’t have the tools…

Back to my point, though. My past shaped my now. Expecting nothing from life has taught gratitude. Not being able to trust anyone has given me an appreciation for the people I trust…and a fear of trust because my mind still expects betrayal. Knowing what it’s like to beat something that usually wins means I tend to root for the underdog. Not loving myself means I am scared of it, love, now but…I am enjoying the learning process, even if it confuses and scares me. For what it’s worth, I have some people that are teaching me and I don’t know quite how to take that. I always expect conditions even while not imposing them on others. *editorial, my mind is an oddly shaped place*…

One last before this goes away. I got a second chance. I grabbed it and ran. I was given a gift beyond price. I was given Life. I will always appreciate that. If you are given a gift like that, never turn it down.

*****

I think I want to revisit the “Z thing” again… I didn’t really set out to spend as much time writing about LBGT Rights as I have. I was going to write about Religious Freedom, random stuff, Drug Addiction, love and, yeah, LBGT Rights. It just kind of turned out that The Muse needs a voice. We, she and I, use her as the example and the inspiration for these words. *editorial, “use” is not a word I like, in the future I’m gonna say “share” because she’s not a tool to be used. She’s a human* My point being, LBGT Rights have covered all the rest. If we learn that Humans deserve respect, then we learn to respect their values, even if we don’t do things the same way. When we see Z, not as a part of a group but, as the Treasure she is, then we may learn to see other people in the same way. She’s not an (insert pejorative). She’s one of the very most valuable people in my world. She’s a Treasure and a Lady. Period. She’s a cherished part of her family. She is a space in my heart that I didn’t know existed ’till she filled it.

Thing is, everyone someone denigrates is a Z to someone else. No matter what you might think of them, when you put down that person, you are deciding that you have the right to assign and diminish value. You do not. I don’t care what your reason is. Just because someone doesn’t fit what you want takes nothing away from them, it just makes you blind and it makes you smaller…

I honestly don’t care what you do with your treasures. I’m proud of mine. I’m proud of her courage and willingness to let me share her with the World.

*****

Different box…I use the word Lady with a capital because I use it as if it were a title. Same with the word Treasure…or any other random use of caps. It’s a part of me and them…*grins* I didn’t assign the titles, they earned them.

*****

It seems there are lots of boxes today…

I admit this is a bit hypocritical but, meaning I’m going ahead anyway, why are people so concerned with what other people do? Why such great concern with someone else’s life? Why not worry about your own? Yeah, I ask those while trying to persuade people to change. My point being, if you are a something and someone else is a different something, why does that make you want them to be the same something as you? Why not just treat them as a person and go on? Wouldn’t it be simpler? Maybe a tad less stressful? A whole lot less complicated than saying, “you don’t fit my box so I gotta tear down your box and rebuild it before we can interact”? It seems that way to me. I like having different perspectives in my life…even if I disagree with some. *grins* Maybe I missed something. Maybe people like their tiny boxes and feel safer in them. I like exploring my big box. It’s got a bunch of interesting stuff in it…

*****

Sometimes I wonder…other times I’m sure…I digress…*grins* I think the whole of what was stashed in the boxes was an attempt to get us, you and me, to lighten up. Life is short and can be difficult. There are principals to stand on. Loyalty, trust, honesty, and love come to mind. Why complicate things by being concerned with the details of someone else’s life when we have enough in our own that could use a bit of polish?

*****

*grins* The Muse is fishing. The Surrogate Muse is doing whatever Surrogate Muses do when they’re not around to surrogate. *grins again* So, they left me alone to see what was in some boxes…Look, I found my old blankie…Y’all have a good day. Maybe some of this made some sense? *sweeps dust off of the floor and wanders off…*

 

A Very Long Way to Get to “I Love You”

I was reading a year old post. It seems that some things haven’t changed. I mean, the things that bounce around in my head don’t…

A year ago I wrote, “She is going to be my priority when I write.” about Z. The only difference is that now I write, “I’m doing this for Z.”

A year ago I wrote, “I worry that by reminding Z that the “haters” exist and that, … it brings her down.” I still do.

A year ago I wrote, “This blog would not exist without Z. She deserves credit. She earned it. So, if you happen to read these, think about Z. These might be my words but, they wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her.” *grins*  Yesterday, “For what it’s worth, if it weren’t for Z coming out to me, I’d have never written the blog. I might have done a few posts around the subject but, not this many and not this much effort.” Go figure…

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I’ve never hid that I’m an ex-addict. That comes with some baggage. Some of that is that, even though I’m 9 years and change clean, I wasn’t from my mid-teens through early forties. That means I am having to learn some emotional lessons that I should have learned in my teens and early twenties. For example, I need to have some idea where relationships stand.

For example, I need to have some idea where relationships stand. To digress…you, Readers, know about Z. Well, when I started, this was also about Religious Freedom. The reason being that Aj, my “best friend that is not my wife”, is Pagan. The main focuses were to be LBGT Rights for Z, Religious Freedom for Aj, and a few side trips into stuff about me. It became more focussed on Z because Marriage Equality is coming to a head… So, just because it morphed into a blog about Z, it didn’t take away from Aj. Tracking so far?

Here’s the confusion and my “baggage”…In my confused and scrambled up brain, I have to try to keep people in their boxes and order. I mean, wife first, (fill in the blank) second, (fill in the blank) third, etc. Still along with me? So, with Aj in second, where did Z fit? I mean, I’ve been writing about her, thousands of words and a couple hundred posts, for over a year. That and we talk almost every day. I say her name to God every time I go to sleep. That’s a huge amount of emotional energy. I am learning emotional stuff as I go, right? So, my tiny brain was getting rattled and stressed because of that desire to prioritize. Baggage, right? I didn’t want to hurt Aj’s feelings by saying I love Z, too. Didn’t want to hurt Z by saying she’s less than Aj.  That’s the lesson. I can love someone. I can love an other someone. I love my wife. *editorial, MY WIFE is and will always be FIRST. She’s the only romantic love in my life and the only one I desire. Forever. Period.*…

Anyway, I learned, yesterday, to my great relief, after much agony and confusion and stress, that I didn’t have to take away from either Aj or Z. They can be tied. I can love Bacon and Rib-eye at the same time, even if they’re very different. *grins* To digress…again…to me, because of the baggage, food is security. Having enough to eat was not always something that occurred in my past. Thus the analogy…So, I don’t have to make someone I love second to someone else I love. Funny thing is, I told them and they were Aj, “Why would you ever have to choose?” and Z, “I told him the same thing yesterday,Aj. He doesn’t have to pick. Feels like how I feel about my kids. I love them all. I have no favorite.” Did I say I’m a bit dense? The best part is they know and love each other. *editorial, I really really stress hurting the feelings of the three women in this section*

*deep breath* I am un-stressed. Is that a word? Poor Z took the brunt of my confusion and over-thinking. I’d agonize and ramble at her trying to figure out where she was supposed to be. I’d try to talk around and work it through. I’d question MY motivation and who I wanted her to be and what place she belonged in. Ugh for her. I’d have smacked me. At least Aj didn’t have to put up with the nonsense, read bulls**t, that I subjected Z to. Lucky her. *grins* Sorry, Z.

I’m sure, very positively sure, there’s more crap buried in my skull that’ll come out in time. More years un-sober than sober leaves a big pile of manure to shovel out…

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That last part is a good lead in to this…

This blog has been a year and a half long “love letter”. It has been about my love of my wife. It has been about how it’s possible to un-romantically love other people. It has been about my love of my faith and how it is possible for someone else’s love of their faith to strengthen mine. I’ve become a better Christian by knowing and loving a Pagan, Aj. It has been about how what society thinks of love has no effect on what love actually is. I love a woman. I watch Z, a “girl that likes girls” and KNOW that what gender she loves doesn’t amount to the tiniest difference. Gender doesn’t matter when it comes to love.

As sappy as it sounds, and yeah, I’ve written this, or something like it before, love is love. Being Pagan doesn’t change the love that one’s faith brings. Being gay doesn’t change the longing of the heart. It is neither a matter of quality or quantity. Nothing that either of them will ever do will make what I have inside my heart and soul worth less. Their paths and ways may be different than mine but, that’s all, just different.

Never let anyone convince you differently. Never believe the lie that says that “different is less”.

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Yeah, I’m sure if I read back, I could find a post that’s similar to this one. I suppose that’s a good thing. It means that, for all my confusion and un-confusion, some views have remained fixed. It means that it’s ok to grow and it’s ok to stress out of care. It also means I haven’t changed how I feel or think. I still have my priorities straight. It also means I won’t have to decide who is more important. Rib-eye or Bacon? Bacon or Rib-eye? How ’bout a can of Dr Pepper and both? *grins* *inside joke, Aj and Z’ll get it and they’re the ones that matter* *grins again*

Hey guys, thanks for putting up with me and loving me back…

I Have No Clue How to Title This One…

This is the week, we hope, that the SCOTUS rules in favor of Marriage Equality. While we’re waiting, I’m trying to figure out what to write…

I’ve said all I can think of *editorial, I probably haven’t but…* to convince anyone that will listen that there is no more to fear from making Equal Rights equal…

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I had a long conversation with someone the other day that was convinced that his “religious freedom” would be compromised by Marriage Equality. I tried and tried to convince him, politely because I like the guy, that he was not correct. As much as I respect his views on every other topic, we’re not going to see it the same way. Perhaps because, as a Christian, I don’t feel infringed on by the actions or lives of others. My best friend that isn’t Z, is Pagan. She is not a threat to my faith. If Z were ever find a girl she wanted to marry, that wouldn’t be a threat either. My freedoms are not infringed on because of the freedoms of an other person. The free practice of my faith isn’t damaged by ANYONE else. I am secure in my beliefs. Nothing any person outside of me is capable of doing may shake them. Nothing will stop me from praying as I see fit. *sigh* I don’t suppose he and I will ever see eye to eye…

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I read the last and need to add this. My marriage is stronger because of Z. My views on Marriage Equality give me reasons to think about how I can be a good partner to my wife. Having Z as a person to talk to helps me in my life. That a group has to fight to gain a right I take for granted and that one of my marriage’s biggest supporters is being denied the same rights just p**es me right the f**k off. Pardon my French…

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One of the things I call a “hobby is “doing nice things for…” One of the reasons this blog exists is because Z in one of those “for…” people. *editorial, she’s one of 3 that fit in the “for…” spot* I had a lady tell me today, “Friendship is at its best when it is from both sides coming together in the middle. Otherwise, it is just one person enabling the other.” She is correct. Since Z prays for me and calms me down when I’m mad and gives me a person to dump stress on and makes me laugh, this seems like a fair return. Since she says there’s no obligation, it’s my own free will. Since I don’t do ANYTHING outside of work I don’t want to do, I’d agree…

It misses the point, though. I want to write for her. I love the Lady to pieces. I enjoy the feeling I get when I am able to find words that build her up. I like that it’s a “we” effort, even if she doesn’t proofread or screen what I write. Being part of a team feels good. That she’s the teammate that chose me, it feels better. I mean, do you have someone that, every time you think about them, you smile and feel a sense of belonging? Writing this means that one of the handful that I feel that way about is at the front of my mind. I think about what I’m going to write before I do. I write it. I start thinking about the next one. Lots of chances to smile and feel “warm fuzzies” *grins*

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For what it’s worth, if it weren’t for Z coming out to me, I’d have never written the blog. I might have done a few posts around the subject but, not this many and not this much effort. This is the point *I’ve made it before*, having someone you love as a motivation is the best motivation. If it wasn’t for that, we wouldn’t be here. To have a desire to motivate strangers to change the world for other strangers, altruism is not enough. It HAS to be personal. I’m just not that nice. The cynical part of me says no one is.

If you have the skill and desire to help a friend, do. For me, this is a way.

If you want your world changed, reach out. She didn’t ask me to do these. She does give me support. She encourages. Yes, for all that she’s real and listed in my phone as Z, there are parts of her life that are “out of bounds”. There are pieces I will never tell, not to any other human. That doesn’t lessen the reality of her. If it is safe, let someone know. *editorial, she knew I was an ally and we were friends for a few years before she told me. It just wasn’t germane ’till she did*

Even though the specifics of this blog are LBGT Rights, doesn’t have to mean that you’re gay. There are other reasons to try to change the way things are. There are other ways that society covers it’s eyes and ignores issues.

I’ve said it time and again, I have bias. I write because I can write for her. I continue to try to persuade because of one person. If I had it to do over, I’d still be writing the blog. The only change would have been to start sooner. I don’t think she and I would be as close if it weren’t for this. If for no other reason, that has made a big difference in my life. I’m self-centered. I love having her as an important part of my world. I’m glad I can do something in return.

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I don’t know if any of this made sense. It did to me. I hope it helps…

A Story About a Blog and a Friend, Yeah, It’s a Ramble

I think I’ve followed this train of thought before…or maybe not…

Writing the blog can be a great amount of fun. It allows me to do some things I enjoy. I am able to use the exercise of writing as a way to organize my thoughts and philosophies. It allows me to explore my faith and world view. It allows me to build up and tease Z at the same time. *sometimes, I think the praise embarrasses her* It allows me to try to show her to the World. It is my own “pride parade” since the only way I will march in a real one is if I’m walking with her. *I am prouder of Z than these words will ever express and it’s only in the tiniest bit because she’s not hiding who she is. Her life is worth being proud of*

It can also be something that I hate. There is a constant reminder that strangers hold her life against her. That the reason for the blog is to convince people that she has worth.

I wish…I wish…I wish…

She IS NOT the hateful words people use. Those words and thoughts do not apply. The words that do apply include warm, caring, intelligent, sarcastic, wild, loving, rebellious, sane, witty, athletic, patriotic, short *grins*, cute, brave, and a bunch more…

Truth be told, it takes far more courage for her to allow me to use her as the focal point of this blog than I have. I’m merely the voice.

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Some good things have come out of this. We’ve become close. I mean, we were friends before a couple of years ago, just not close. Then I started posting some pro-LBGT stuff on Facebook and she kept commenting. I thought “cool, a ‘fellow traveler'” because I thought she was straight. Funny thing, it turns out I was wrong. Who knew? *editorial, for lots of reasons, some outside the context of this, I had NO idea. That and I wasn’t looking for a date since I’m very happily married* Since we started writing, really I write and it’s a we because it is, there has been a huge amount of trust built up. Like has turned to love. Truly, I love Z. *editorial, I NEVER use the word “love” casually. I do not say it or write it by accident or as a way to express “like”. She uses that word, too. In fact, if memory serves, she used it first* *grins* She’s one of my two closest friends that are not my wife. The fact that she trusts me to write for her means more to me than I can say. That I am able to tell her the stuff that I don’t tell anyone else besides Sweety has come from that.

She’s more of a socially outgoing person than I am. I don’t want a bunch of “friends”. I don’t “run around” much. I’m much more of a “work and go home” person. It’s a difference that we have. For me, crowds and noise are just “unfun”.

I have learned from her. She is herself. She makes no bones about it. There is not a speck of pretense in the woman. You don’t like her or what she is? She doesn’t care. In fact, I get more offended by comments made by random people and co-workers than she does. I’m nowhere close to being as self-confident as she is

We talk often…well as often as our schedules permit. We try to have a phone call a day. It doesn’t happen that often but, often enough. It’s nice to have someone that doesn’t want anything from you but, your continued well being. Just a voice on a phone to vent to or ask silly questions or bounce thoughts off of.

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I don’t know where the story will end. Within the month, the SCOTUS will rule on the Marriage Equality cases before it. I know what I want and expect to happen. I don’t know if it will. I do know that however that turns out, it won’t be the end of the blog or it’s current topic. Just because the laws will be changed, prejudices and pushback won’t. I expect that the states won’t let it pass without more laws and attempts to repress. *sigh*…and I’ll keep writing…

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I don’t know how the current focus of the blog will change. I don’t know what variations it will go through. The exercise of writing is fun. The subject matter, Z, is worth the effort. I’d like it if she would share some of her own words even if I don’t expect that to ever happen.

For now, this post was just a story, a true story. I receive comments like “You are such a fine friend!” and think, “no, I’m not.” I’m just a friend. I’m doing this for Z. It isn’t for praise. It is what I’m SUPPOSED to do. If I’m willing to tell her, in private, that she’s loved, I should do it in public. It is my privilege to be able to write.That’s all…

Thanks, to you, readers. In the grand scheme of things, y’all are important. If you don’t read these, then there’s no point. My views are set. Z is who she is. It is your opinions that matter. It is you we are trying to influence. When you comment and it builds up Z, that matters. When you are encouraged, that matters. When you show approval for my friend, those words are important.

You, all of you, in the 35, i think, countries that have read these, have lives and loves. Those matter, too. That is also the point. This may be a blog about LBGT rights as a specific focus but, it is really about treating ALL humans with the basic respect and dignity we all deserve.

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There ya go. For what it’s worth, if you told me two years ago I’d be writing a blog and a story about writing a blog, I wouldn’t have believed you. No way would I have thought that a married guy and a girl that likes girls would have been able to do this. I wish the circumstances were different. “I love me some Z”. She truly is a treasure. She is an inspiration to me. Not only is she my favorite L, she’s my favorite Z. I’m glad she’s the only Z I know. Otherwise, I’d have to decide which is my favorite. *grins*…I still hope she decides to write one of these…and really don’t expect it…

Thanks for coming along with us, so far.