Last night something beautiful happened at the Grammy's and I don't mean Beyonce's outfit. 33 couples both heterosexual and homosexual were married during the performance of Same Love by Macklemore, Ryan Lewis, and Mary Lambert. Madonna stepped in with a few lyrics of Open Your Heart while Queen Latifah officiated. Almost 30 million people watched this display of love orchestrated perfectly against the backdrop of lyrical bliss. And getting Katy Perry to catch your bouquet is well, just pretty damn awesome.
As I sat there watching the event, I was both elated and crushed. The tears that flowed were filled with duplicity- happiness for those who were clearly overjoyed at marrying their soul mates and sadness for all of those who are still fighting for that basic right to marry.
I thought of Edith Windsor and her partner Thea Spyer. They lived together for more than four decades in NY but had to get married in Canada. Thea's impending death could not outlast the move for marriage equality in NY. I thought of Sally Ride and her partner of 27 years, Tam O'Shaughnessy. But once again death won the timetable against marriage equality and thus they never married.
And then I thought of my own love story. My partner of 8 and 1/2 years. Our own wish of marriage. My desire to wear a tux, look down the aisle, and see Tina carrying her bouquet walking towards me. The vows of sacred promises and the symbolic placement of rings. Our friends and family in attendance and me silently hoping that I don't fumble my words or pass out.
But on May 8th, 2012 our state of NC passed NC Same-Sex Marriage Amendment 1. Same-sex marriage is already illegal in the state of NC but this measure added the ban to the state constitution. I can marry my cousin, but I can't marry Tina because I don't have a penis.
Those who would oppose a marriage between myself and Tina cite religious reasons. I hate to break it to them, but not everyone believes in their God or their religion. I certainly don't. And so I can't comprehend why my life should be dictated by someone else's beliefs?
In the mean time I will continue to live in a loving, committed relationship. And I will continue to be gay. Very gay. Like I mean flaming. Hopefully one day the fight for marriage equality will be over. There will no longer be the need for demonstrations or protests. There will no longer be the debate or argument of how it's ok for me to pay taxes, but not ok for me to receive the same basic rights. Instead there will only be invitations on heavy parchment paper announcing the date when two hearts can be one legally.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
getting up
I ran into an old friend the other day and they said "What in the hell are you doing on a walker because I just saw your pic online and you were up a tree?" Truth be told, I was lifted onto that branch and it's really less than 4ft off of the ground. Over the last three years I have tried very hard to not have my picture taken with either my cane or walker .And if you look closely through my pics, because who wouldn't want to, I am usually sitting or leaning on something. I see these items as a representation of my weakness, a reminder that the doctor continues to tell me that I am disabled. I do take solace in the fact that at least my walker isn't ugly grey decorated with tennis balls. Nope, I have a sassy midnight blue model with the deluxe fold-out seat. I don't have a cup holder, but I'm positive I could roll the halls at the retirement center and score some serious jealousy, or at least some extra tapioca pudding.
Three years ago in a very ungraceful fall, I tore my sciatic nerve. Had it torn even a fraction more, I would be looking at paralysis. The doctors have told me that there is nothing that can be done to fix my back and believe me they have tried. There is a 50% chance that a spinal stimulator would improve my quality of life, but without insurance no one will do the very costly procedure. Quite honestly I cannot afford individual health insurance, Tina and I cannot marry therefore I'm unable to be covered on her insurance, and because the state has continued to deny me disability, I do not qualify for medicaid. This is in no way the life I had mapped out for myself.
Those of you who know me, know how much I loved to dance- we're talking everybody was kung-fu fighting with a dash of epileptic seizure thrown in dancing. But with this injury there has been no dancing. No biking, no golfing, no hiking, no driving. And I'd totally be a victim if someone chases me because there is absolutely no running either. There's no more playing soccer, basketball, or frisbee even though I mostly sucked at all athletic attempts to begin with. I never outgrew that whole last person picked to be on the team phase. Now instead there is help. Help with walking, with dressing, with bathing. There is financial help. Family and friends have come through so many times, and I have truly learned that stuff is just stuff. The day I had to hawk my college ring to buy groceries was heartbreaking. The irony that the proceeds from that ring went towards the purchase of ramen noodles did not escape me.
And there has been plenty of depression. I wake up every morning and wonder why- just so I can go sit in a recliner all day doped up? because there is constant pain and constant medication. It is quite the paradox to have all the time in the world and yet to have a body that does not allow the freedom in which to enjoy it. If my injury was my leg or arm, I would simply get a prosthetic or at least have an additional limb to work with, but when it is you back it affects everything.
But each day I do get up. I get up because I know that there are people out there a thousand times worse off than myself. People who would trade lives with me in a second because while my injury maybe life changing, their's is life threatening. I am incredibly fortunate to have an unbelievable partner who continues to care for me although I view myself as nothing more than a tiresome burden. So I get up for her because if there ever is any hope of normal functionality then she shall be the first to reap whatever rewards that might offer .And I get up because I haven't lived through all of the painful procedures, the erroneous paperwork of insurance companies, and the bureaucratic red tape of the state just to forfeit it all.
Somewhere inside of me I still believe that I have a purpose or some contribution to make in this world. It may not be the one I had planned or had hoped for, but I have to believe that one exists. I think we all have to believe that. No matter what our circumstances are, we get up for a reason. You may never know your reason, but others do. We all have the ability to impact someone else through our actions and words. It may not be of monumental proportions, but the possibility does exists and so should we.
Martin Luther King said: If you can't fly, then run. If you can't run, then walk. If you can't walk then crawl. But whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward.
Three years ago in a very ungraceful fall, I tore my sciatic nerve. Had it torn even a fraction more, I would be looking at paralysis. The doctors have told me that there is nothing that can be done to fix my back and believe me they have tried. There is a 50% chance that a spinal stimulator would improve my quality of life, but without insurance no one will do the very costly procedure. Quite honestly I cannot afford individual health insurance, Tina and I cannot marry therefore I'm unable to be covered on her insurance, and because the state has continued to deny me disability, I do not qualify for medicaid. This is in no way the life I had mapped out for myself.
Those of you who know me, know how much I loved to dance- we're talking everybody was kung-fu fighting with a dash of epileptic seizure thrown in dancing. But with this injury there has been no dancing. No biking, no golfing, no hiking, no driving. And I'd totally be a victim if someone chases me because there is absolutely no running either. There's no more playing soccer, basketball, or frisbee even though I mostly sucked at all athletic attempts to begin with. I never outgrew that whole last person picked to be on the team phase. Now instead there is help. Help with walking, with dressing, with bathing. There is financial help. Family and friends have come through so many times, and I have truly learned that stuff is just stuff. The day I had to hawk my college ring to buy groceries was heartbreaking. The irony that the proceeds from that ring went towards the purchase of ramen noodles did not escape me.
And there has been plenty of depression. I wake up every morning and wonder why- just so I can go sit in a recliner all day doped up? because there is constant pain and constant medication. It is quite the paradox to have all the time in the world and yet to have a body that does not allow the freedom in which to enjoy it. If my injury was my leg or arm, I would simply get a prosthetic or at least have an additional limb to work with, but when it is you back it affects everything.
But each day I do get up. I get up because I know that there are people out there a thousand times worse off than myself. People who would trade lives with me in a second because while my injury maybe life changing, their's is life threatening. I am incredibly fortunate to have an unbelievable partner who continues to care for me although I view myself as nothing more than a tiresome burden. So I get up for her because if there ever is any hope of normal functionality then she shall be the first to reap whatever rewards that might offer .And I get up because I haven't lived through all of the painful procedures, the erroneous paperwork of insurance companies, and the bureaucratic red tape of the state just to forfeit it all.
Somewhere inside of me I still believe that I have a purpose or some contribution to make in this world. It may not be the one I had planned or had hoped for, but I have to believe that one exists. I think we all have to believe that. No matter what our circumstances are, we get up for a reason. You may never know your reason, but others do. We all have the ability to impact someone else through our actions and words. It may not be of monumental proportions, but the possibility does exists and so should we.
Martin Luther King said: If you can't fly, then run. If you can't run, then walk. If you can't walk then crawl. But whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
blogging
With the new year I have decided to slightly alter the look and name of my blog. Don't worry it's not anything overly fancy because I am unbelievably technologically challenged. In fact I won't be surprised that once I post this, none of the layout changes will have even taken. When I decided to set out and begin this writing journey I only had the high hopes that my mom might read it. I truly had no idea of the hits, follows, and interest it would receive. The messages of support, encouragement, and just flat out fan mail have astounded me. Granted I make no profit from my ramblings and I would certainly question anyone who would pay for my insight, but I am completely grateful for the gratitude that has been sent my way.
Blogging has been around for years. In the old days I think they called it keeping a diary. As a kid I had diaries and I can't even tell you the number of times they were confiscated only to be destroyed. I'm sure they were full of highly classified top secret information alongside the heart and star doodles. No, mostly it was pages of how much I missed my mom and wished she was raising me. I'm guessing that's what cued the destruction? And there was probably the occasional crushing on a teacher- and no I won't tell you which ones because too many of you know me and my previous educators in real life.
But blogging is so much more exposing because it is your thoughts, your stories, and sometimes your memories being on display beyond the marginalized lines of paper. This form of written expression is online. There is no cute little lock and key that can be put in place to protect your words. Once the post button is clicked, it's out there for anyone to read. And I mean anyone. I have been fortunate to only receive positive feedback, however I only assume that those who have something um not so positive to say haven't figured out how to do so anonymously. Because let's be honest, my blog is far from perfection.
My English teachers would probably have mini-meltdowns of massive magnitude at my futile and failed attempts of alliteration, and if they saw how grammatically incorrect my sentence structures are they'd tell me to blow it out my colon. There are misspellings (even with auto correct) and there are a plethora of commas because I type like I talk. I would not even call myself a writer. But this art of blogging has somehow along the way allowed my simple and elementary words to resonate with others. I am not on some great mission to save the world with my words. I'm just sort of throwing a stone out there across the water and if the ripple happens to inspire action, invoke emotions, or encourage you to share your own words, then that may indeed be worth my online diary being read.
Blogging has been around for years. In the old days I think they called it keeping a diary. As a kid I had diaries and I can't even tell you the number of times they were confiscated only to be destroyed. I'm sure they were full of highly classified top secret information alongside the heart and star doodles. No, mostly it was pages of how much I missed my mom and wished she was raising me. I'm guessing that's what cued the destruction? And there was probably the occasional crushing on a teacher- and no I won't tell you which ones because too many of you know me and my previous educators in real life.
But blogging is so much more exposing because it is your thoughts, your stories, and sometimes your memories being on display beyond the marginalized lines of paper. This form of written expression is online. There is no cute little lock and key that can be put in place to protect your words. Once the post button is clicked, it's out there for anyone to read. And I mean anyone. I have been fortunate to only receive positive feedback, however I only assume that those who have something um not so positive to say haven't figured out how to do so anonymously. Because let's be honest, my blog is far from perfection.
My English teachers would probably have mini-meltdowns of massive magnitude at my futile and failed attempts of alliteration, and if they saw how grammatically incorrect my sentence structures are they'd tell me to blow it out my colon. There are misspellings (even with auto correct) and there are a plethora of commas because I type like I talk. I would not even call myself a writer. But this art of blogging has somehow along the way allowed my simple and elementary words to resonate with others. I am not on some great mission to save the world with my words. I'm just sort of throwing a stone out there across the water and if the ripple happens to inspire action, invoke emotions, or encourage you to share your own words, then that may indeed be worth my online diary being read.
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