Behind the mask

Today is a shit day....  I have wrestled with myself all day long on what to do about it.... whether to tell anyone, how to deal with it on my own and you know what... at the end of the day... I don't care.

I try to keep it all to myself.... I wake up in the morning and I take my pills like a good girl and remind myself that today will be a good day and know deep down that if it isn't a good day... well.... too damn bad.... Nobody's problem but my own.... And then I yell at my kid to get out of bed, yell some more, TRY to drink a cup of coffee, yell some more... hope that I have time to take the dog out... or see if I have treats so I can take her to work, yell some more, shower... if I am lucky.... yell SOME MORE... message my friend that the wanda bus is leaving, go out the door, bang on the kid's window, yell for him to get up ONE MORE TIME, get in the car... sometimes with the dog... and sometimes without... and go.. probably running behind... to work.

Now, I have honestly tried to not talk about it anymore.  Not to complain, to comment, to bring it to anyone's attention because at the end of the day, it's nobody's problem but mine.  You can turn off your monitor, mute my voice, unfriend me, or simply not read my stuff.  You can hang up the phone, walk away, make an excuse, let your battery die and let me deal with the life that I live.

But I have to be honest right this minute... I am sick to death of keeping it to myself.  I am tired of pretending I am ok when I am not so that other people don't have to really care.... Because if others had to REALLY care, had to hear it, had to live my life, they wouldn't want to either... I mean... who would?  I know it sucks to hear that I feel terrible, that I sat at work this morning and cried until I had no tears left.  I know that it makes people uncomfortable to feel as though I can't trust friendship... I can TOTALLY understand the apprehension that comes along with being my friend.... but for once... just for this second... I simply don't have it in me to care how it will affect someone else to know how shitty it is behind the mask that I put on for other people's benefit.

Now... dont' get me wrong... don't get all up in arms about my statement... It is no one and everyone in particular, nothing said, nothing noted... it isn't as if someone actually said "i don't want to hear about your life"... well, no...that's not true... people HAVE actually said it, but that didn't trigger it today...... but I know... I know how much drama comes along with knowing me....

I want to believe that being in my life is worth the drama... the days where I cry for no reason, the yelling at my kid, the dismay that I can't quite hide behind a mask of not caring when once again the ONE THING I asked to be left alone was taken by someone OTHER THAN my kids.... the distrust I am slow to push aside after finding out that some mystery person broke into my house while I was at work and watched adult movies... because no one IN my house would do it....  I want to believe that listening to me yell at my 17 yr old for 45 minutes doesn't make OTHER PEOPLE upset too.  I want to trust that when something really is wrong that I know I can turn to someone.... but the fact is... I can't.  I turn to this...to a blog... not that there are not people I know who read it... but to anonymity because sometimes the positive thoughts of people who aren't there, who don't believe they have me figured out... is what I need to go home after work, have my dinner, go to bed and wake up and do it all again.

Today is a hard day and I am sure that by tomorrow I will have put it all where it goes and put it away again so that i can stamp it down to where it can stay either out of mind or at the very least, in a place where I need to pay very little attention to it.  But for today... today it's all there, it's all at the top of my mind, taking over everything, and I am struggling to compartmentalize what needs to be so that I can focus on what needs focusing.  I get that God doesn't give you more than you can handle... well, I'm thinking God has lost his damn mind (blasphemy I know) because I CAN'T handle this and I wish he would pay attention....

sigh.... tomorrow's a new day... I just have to make it through today.

coming through hatred

Your coming out stories         

Recently I was privileged enough to read someone’s coming out story.  I am floored.  I am a “lucky” one.  Me being gay didn’t matter to anyone.

My heart is torn with feeling, with anger at people for hurting others in the name of ignorance!  I am hurting.. Hurting that others, people whom I am lucky enough to have in my life have been degraded and hurt because of who they are when it should not matter!  I am deep down ashamed… Ashamed of the human race and lack of compassion in a group of humans….

I don’t have a special coming out story.  I didn’t have a moment when I went “aha” and knew I was gay… yes, honestly, making love with a woman EXPLAINED SOOOO MUCH… but it wasn’t a big deal.  In the greater scheme of things, my sexual exploits were the least of my mother’s worries… My father didn’t quite know but then again, he didn’t NOT know either, we simply never discussed it.  He didn’t want to know about my sex life anymore than I wanted to know about his so it didn’t exist.

Since then I have “come out” I suppose, but not really.  I have made no effort to share with the world the fact that I am gay, though I make no effort to hide it.  who I sleep with, whom I love, whom I choose to share my life with is none of anyone’s business but mine and the one whom I choose.  That said… I hear and read and learn the struggles that some of my friends have gone through, the level of impersonal and downright hurtful family and friends in this world brings tears of frustration to my eyes.

I suppose, being me, I may have people dislike me but I don’t notice.  Fact is… I don’t care, I assume everyone likes me, and everyone wants to know that I LOVE women, that I masturbate, that I hate kids, that I am constantly shocked by how messy/angry/belligerent/rude/stupid/idiotic/fun/funny/loving people are.  I honestly don’t’ notice if it is the dreaded TMI, however reading and hearing and thinking about other people’s coming out stories just floors me in the sense that there are still people who are THIS ridiculous!

I see how family members disown their family as though who their child/sister/brother/mother/father is has suddenly become someone not worthy of love on the basis of what they do in bed.  What gets me is that these people don’t REALLY break this shit down.  That’s what they are angry about… YOU DISOWNED YOUR KID BECAUSE YOU DON’T LIKE HOW HE FUCKS!..... How can these people not see the ridiculousness of it.  It isn’t because of who your son/daughter/friend LOVES… they love YOU… if you are a brother, or a friend or a father or a son, you LOVE ANOTHER MAN.  If you are a mother or a sister or a daughter or a aunt, you have LOVED ANOTHER WOMAN… what the fricken issue is boils down to what your family/friend does IN BED.

Well, let me just put this into perspective for you people who are so “on your high horse”…. I think what YOU DO in bed is gross TOO!  I think that your “normal” love making is boring and overbearing and repetitive.  I don’t find pleasure in it, I don’t want to see it, hear about it, be a part of it… but you know… I respect YOU enough and care about YOU enough as a human being to say that if it makes YOU happy THAT is what is important to me. 

Normally I have this lesson learning message.  I start out with what is bothering me, and end with something positive, thought provoking and uplifting and yet today I find myself unable to do it.  Unable to learn a lesson from the hatred of others.  I find myself unable to positively twist and turn this information, this seldom talked about subject.  I find nothing in here…. I am hurting…. Hurting for girls like Mallory and boys like Matthew.  I find myself aching for GLBTQ youth who are taking their lives…. Because of how petty people are… and how hurtful.  I do not wish illwell on anyone, no matter their views about whomever… I am saddened by the world in which I live in and I find myself struggling to find the sliver of light in this cloud…. It is hanging too low today.

To everyone who is being ostracized because of who you are… remember… when it is LOVE it is all the same.  When someone STOPS loving you because you don’t live the way THEY want you to, it is THEIR thing, not yours.  There is no reason to hide who you are to please them.  If they can’t hate because of this, they will find another reason.  All you can do is hold your head up high and know that some of us out there are in awe of your bravery, of your strength and of your resilience.

Thank you… for all you do.

You probably won't believe this.....

I have to admit something to you…. I have lied to you, I have lied to everyone for years…. I have told everyone how much confidence I have, joked and laughed with all of you, made you smile and brought tears to your eyes…. But…here it is….

I do NOT have a great self esteem.  I am NOT actually that confident.  In most situations, I really have to force myself to step up to the plate…. To take that first step in the door at the bar I am so bravely arriving at by myself.  I have to tell myself over and over again that a girl isn’t going to think I am nuts if I ask her for coffee.  I look at myself in the mirror repeatedly, wondering how that pimple got there….

I don’t like to be nekkid in front of people… I don’t want to take my clothes off for sex.  Don’t get me wrong, I can WANDER AROUND the house nekkid, I can USUALLY even dance nekkid, I love a good strip tease… but I would rather that people (someone intimate of course) didn’t look…

I know that in person I will talk all about how you have to love yourself and that you need to know that you are loved and all the rest, however, I am not so unrealistic that I don’t realize that when it all comes down to it, what people say to and about you really does change how you look at yourself.  Case in point, my daughter.  She is BEAUTIFUL… I WISH I looked like her.  She has (in my opinion) the perfect shape, she is just the right tall, she has beautiful skin and gorgeous blue eyes.  She’s blonde (as a black woman, THIS IS MY ENVY) and has curls that are sweet (though she straightens them).  She is a bigger girl, however, she looks in proportion to her size, she is what used to be regarded, I suppose as “husky” or “big boned”.  I think she is amazingly beautiful, graceful and when she grows up, some guy is going to fall all over himself for her…. she won’t believe him because what other people say to and about her shapes how she feels about herself.

We tell people that no one can tell them how they can and can’t feel, tell them not to worry about what other people say but then we are hurt by exactly that.  There were studies done on youth stating that raising a child with positive reinforcement is better for their self esteem.  Yet for every negative thing said/told/pointed out about a person, 20 positive things were needed to counteract that.  But we tell people not to be hurt by it?  We tell people who feel uncomfortable with eating in public that they are free to do so but don’t’ consider how it feels when some asshole teenager (or adult really) comes up and tells them to stop eating or calls them a pig under their breath or makes thumping noises when they walk by.  Who wouldn’t that hurt?  I mean, take the most popular kid in school, everyone likes them, they have a great home life (ok, hypothetically speaking here people) and every day for a month point out something negative about them, and get 3 of your friends to do the same every OTHER day.  At the end of the month there will have been 75 negative statements about one thing about that super confident person; now ask how they feel.  See if they now look in the mirror and see JUST that thing that is wrong or not…. This is how the negativity feeds your fear and destroys your self esteem.

I am currently nervous, for various reasons, however, I know having quit smoking I have gained some weight… as a matter of fact, someone who was once close to me pointed that fact out, just in case I hadn’t noticed (well, fuck you very much too)…. But I digress… she pointed out that I gained weight… I have been big forever…. I am used to being overweight, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t CARE about it… I have just accepted it.  Every day since she pointed out my weight gain I look in the mirror to see if I have gained more girth to my already large body….  The thought of being nekkid bothers me… the thought of someone SEEING me up close and personal gives me palpitations… because I have a low self esteem when it comes to body image.  I know that my body is not everyone’s cup of tea… I know that gravity has done a phenomenal job of putting things SLIGHTLY below (and off to the left) of where they should be… my body claps if I run down the stairs too quickly, my thighs get sweaty and rub together ruining the inner thigh of my clothing… I get that… but how does that fare for making love?  How does that work when you are taking your clothes off with someone new?  What made me self conscious?  Me, who can stand on a stage and make you all laugh, who can write a blog that makes people think for hours sometimes, and makes them look at me in a different light.   Why do I have a low self esteem?

When in relationships I seem to run into a number of problems… the biggest of which is “lesbian bed death” which if you are a lesbian… you know about… and if you aren’t… it’s pretty straight forward from the title exactly what it is… but just in case you DON’T know… this is where two women who are in a loving committed lesbian relationship, usually living together (from my estimation at least) who no longer have sexual intimacy on a regular basis.  By regular basis I mean perhaps weekly… or even bi-weekly is pushing it.  Usually someone cries, or fights and the other “gives in” because they are fed up (or don’t… it happens) Now… one would think… then perhaps go back to hetero-sexuality… only… once we get past the penis part of it *shudder*….. I had the same problem THERE TOO. 

That’s right… when I was “straight” I had lesbian bed death with my ex BOYFRIENDS too… but again…. I digress… This blog is, of course about self esteem and how someone else’s words can sit beneath the surface and affect you negatively forever… or for a very long time at least….  When your partner isn’t your biggest supporter, your “cheerleader” as it were, it is easy to allow the negative things that they say shape the way you feel about yourself…. When your partner in a well meaning way tells you that your shirt “clings weird” to your stomach or “bright colors make you look bigger” rather than boosting you up, it is easy to allow their words to shape how you feel.

I readily admit that I am not the most confident person in the world… who is really?  I’m just as scared and self conscious as my daughter about how I look, and what a girl will think of me.  I am scared to take my clothes off in front of her, I wish I didn’t have this pimple on my chin.  I am worried that my chin hair is going to be a deal breaker… because my self esteem is damaged…. 

But you know what isn’t damaged?  My belief that even if I am too fat, or smell bad, or missing teeth… that I can’t keep house and am disorganized… that even if I don’t make a lot of sense and forget what I am saying often, if I forget to buy groceries because I was watching a movie.  My belief that who I am, imperfections and all DESERVES love and to be treated well.  My belief that if I were MY FRIEND… I would tell me that I am pretty awesome and there are things that I have to offer and anyone who can’t see that, isn’t worth the spit in the sand.  My belief that no one is perfect and everyone can find something wrong with themselves… that we all have our “things” that we don’t like about ourselves… is one that has determined that though what others have said has made me self conscious in the face of nudity (or potential nudity) that I worry that I talk too much or that my varicose veins look nasty… I still have an awful lot of awesome to offer to a person who accepts who I am and wants to know me as a person.

So bring it on… while I stamp down the self esteem assholes that pop up and make me want to run, lay it thick while I run around flipping shitty thoughts the bird, because Wanda deserves the world!

Words

Words are the most powerful thing in the world… at least in my opinion (and since I am writing this on my blog, I guess that’s what I am always going to say… my opinion)…

I have spent a lot of time lately thinking about words and what they can and can’t do.  Words have the power to reduce a grown adult to tears, they have the ability to make a fear, stress or anxiety attack back up a bit so you can take a look at things from a different point of view… I want to talk about double meaning words today…  I am not talking about words like they’re, there and their either, I am particularly referring to words that are the same word with multiple meanings… Words that have been “taken back” or that the power has been taken back from….

There are really only 3 words that I can think of off the top of my head that fit this description.  They are the following;

Dyke –  1) variant of dike

2) Used as a disparaging term for a lesbian.

Nigger -            1) Used as a disparaging term for a Black person:

            2) Used as a disparaging term for a member of any socially, economically, or politically deprived group of people

Queer. – 1) Deviating from the expected or normal; strange

             2) Odd or unconventional, as in behavior; eccentric

             3) Used as a disparaging term for a homosexual person.

I have searched up the actual meanings to these words and put them next to the word itself.  Please note, I got these descriptions from www.thefreedictionary.com

Over time, these words have changed meanings…the free dictionary says the following;

A reclaimed word is a word that was formerly used solely as a slur but that has been semantically overturned by members of the maligned group, who use it as a term of defiant pride.

Now… I get what this is reported to be.  I understand what the above is claiming, however, I struggle to use these words when referring to myself.  I don’t have issue with other people referring to themselves as queer or dyke… (It will NEVER matter to me, I cannot, will not and do not see why ANYONE would want to refer to themselves as the N-word, it sounds ignorant no matter who is saying it and it is an insult to so many.)

I have a problem referring to myself using any of these terms because of the double meaning to said words.  I look at it a different way I think.  When I first heard the term “reclaimed” when referring to a derogatory/disparaging term I was interested, however offended I may have been.  At that time the N-word was the word that was gaining interest and attention.

My father was born in Mississippi in 1929 when the N-word had its “power” in full force.  My great Grandfather was not allowed to vote, my Grandfather was allowed to vote but was segregated and didn’t know how to read, and my father was 35 years old before the racial segregation ended “officially”.  My father, always fond of the pale skin women (he married 2 white women, and had children with my mother, all of whom were white women) was not allowed to marry the woman of his choice until he was 34 years old…. And that’s really in the Northern states, not the southern as though it was a law passed, there is still segregation in some high schools in the south (not by law, but by action).  My father, whose name was Claude Nathaniel, was referred to as “boy”, “jigaboo” and “nigger” for the duration of the 40 years he lived in the USA, and when he married his first white wife, no one accepted the marriage, including his family and hers.  When my father was 30 years old, they drained a pool he swam in.

Fast forward to my life (this was FAR before I was born, or even thought of) my parents met and got together in 1972, my father taking on the role of father to my unwed pregnant mother’s unborn child.  (My brother is white).  I grew up as a mixed race child, as I have stated in another post, raised by my white mother and white step father.  There was not a lot of time in my childhood that my father was present, however, when he was, he commanded my siblings and me without contest.  I believe that I have adopted some of his southern accent, his views and also his good looks (toot toot) because he was an opinionated, educated, Korean War veteran who had seen his share of change.  His thoughts and views on the end of the 20^th and beginning of the 21^st century were drilled into my head (welcome views I might add) from his opinion of racism in Canada (which he felt was ALWAYS here, but people here hide behind a mask of political correctness) to his views of parenting.

I remember my father and I discussing rap videos early in my 20’s and how the N-word was thrown around.  He was disgusted by the use of “Nigga” by blacks in the United States.  When I told him the argument of reclaiming the word, to as a term of defiance he balked.  He told me that there was NOTHING in the world that can change the memories, the pain, the death toll that THAT word has brought upon our people, both black and white.  The scars felt by families of blacks killed in lynches, witch hunts, KKK, along with the shame felt by present and past day white’s for the treatment of blacks simply based on the color of their skin cannot be reclaimed, he said.  The definition of the word has not changed, he told me.  When I tried again to state the argument that is so common he pointed something out to me that I don’t think many people REALLY think about…

If a group of black men call themselves Niggers… it is reclaimed… it is them standing up in defiance to “the White Man”… when a black man sings about smacking bitches and ho’s he is stating his satisfaction of equality and yet, when a white man calls a black man a Nigger, the room silences instantly and he is a Racist.  If the word has been reclaimed, then it should not have double meaning don’t you think?

The word Dyke…. It is an interesting word for sure… I have no clue why it was used to refer to lesbians to begin with.  The term Lesbian has been referred to throughout history from the start of the word referring to the Isle of Lesbos.  I am not a dyke, if it is insulting when a straight person calls me a dyke, then is it not still an insult if my lesbian friend calls me the same?  I am a lesbian and proud to be one, I love women, but I don’t use the term Dyke.  To each their own… other lesbians may not have issue with this word, however I do (and in a society where we want inclusion, again, if it has double meaning, then it hasn’t really been reclaimed.)

The last word… Queer… is one that I know many people who use…  It is a term that the label-less community of gays use quite freely.  This word can also be used to refer to gay-friendly types, to artisty types, to Poly people, to cross dressing, unusual people all throughout the community.  And yet, it is a word I do not feel comfortable using, not even when referring to someone who has reclaimed the word.  Reading about the word Queer I have learned that it is a broad term used to self identify a group of different people.  Queer means different, and in that I suppose it does cover the majority of the GLBTQ2S community.

I do not judge others for using the term Queer when referring to themselves, however, when referring to me, I fit into the human race first and foremost and really, when it comes down to it, my sexual orientation and level of strangeness does not automatically make me queer.

The double meanings of the above words sits in my brain like lava, slowly rolling in and out of my conscious, sliding into the crevices of my mind, always there, always waiting just behind the next thought as it is not something that many people like to hear.  It causes controversy if you don’t agree with the usage of the terms, gaining a label of “homophobic” or “racist” or being told I am not supportive of my community.  My issue has nothing to do with being supportive, or being a proud black woman, my issue is with society dictating what you can and can’t talk about.

My family is a mixed bag.  My daughter is bi-sexual, I am gay and my son is straight (I am pretty sure he would refer to himself as queer were it not for my opinions of the word as my kids get to hear me go off about these words a lot)…. My niece and nephew are straight.  My daughter and mother white, my sister and I are black, my son, niece and nephew are “colored” so I tend to look at the BIG picture.  I look at these words and by their definition, some of my family can use these terms and some cannot.  Technically, by the “reclamation” of these words, I can use them all to refer to myself but they cannot.  I don’t’ use these words because I am aware of the power behind them.  I am aware that some older generation gays may be offended by the word Queer, or Dyke… I am ACUTELY aware that the N-word offends the older generation of blacks….

If a word has been reclaimed, if the power has been removed from the word, should it be a word that can be used freely by EVERYONE?  If it can’t be used by everyone, should anyone use it?  And lastly, if only certain groups can use these words, is that not, in itself discrimination?

I hate you facebook

So... I have decided that I can't stand FACEBOOK... I know, everyone says that all the time, but I am TOTALLY serious.

I hate that I use it... I hate that I have connections, I hate that it is great for keeping in touch, or feeling like I exist.  I hate that I know people on it and I hate that I don't.  I hate that it feels like a friend and yet an enemy... I hate that facebook welcomes me to post, to talk, to chat, to invite people who don't say hello to me in every day life to parties that they probably ahve no interest in attending... I hate that when I am feeling good I brag on facebook and when I feel down I post cryptic messages hoping for a notice from someone to say that I am real.

I hate the phone, and the internet... though I use both so much.  I hate that I can't process my feelings or figure anything out without the help of Google and Facebook, Twitter and myspace... basically I hate technology.

I hate that I want to go back to simpler times when though the world was behind, if you were feeling down, you sought out a friend who you saw often and sat down with them and cried, or you sent out those little paper things... ya know... invitations to things... with RSVP cards and an extra envelope... I hate that I want those days back...

I hate that once I put something out there, even if only for a second, just for a feeling that I matter but it is there, it is out, it is open for scrutiny or pity, empathy or sympathy, judgment or criticism....that it can't be taken back.

I hate that I feel so out of touch, so incapable of processing life in my head.... people used to do that... use their minds, not ask the 300 "friends" whom they don't talk to and who don't even know their cats names...  I hate this need I have for approval... for confirmation...

and I hate that I can't take that hate back...