Come out: emerge, become known.

Coming out to myself seems to be the thing – the thing I keep doing over and over and over again. As I continue to peel back the layers of what I seem to be wearing on top of the truth.

I had a dream last night that I was pulling hair out of my mouth. I looked it up this morning because I woke up early and I actually remembered that I had dreamt this specific thing. I barely ever remember my dreams… honestly I know I have them but I have very few that I could recite to you.

I remember one of my exes would always remember EVERY detail of their dreams. And they’d tell me as well like reciting a story from a storybook – all of the details in place, the whole thing. It used to bother me.

A trigger some would say. But now I look back and think how amazing that must be. To remember everything that you dreamt the night before as soon as you woke up.

I remember this though… even though it was probably only a second. I remember pulling hair out of my mouth. If you’ve ever experienced the feeling of having a hair stuck in your mouth/throat… it’s quite uncomfortable and something that can be consuming until you get it out or it forces it’s way out. It can also be a bit panicking.

Sometimes I don’t know where to go – whether to choose facts or fictions. Facts over fantasies. My brain says – choose the facts- look back on the evidence, it’s there.  My heart says but noooo the fantasy – the story the fairytale ending. It can all happen. The thing is that I feel that my heart needs to remember the facts so it can feel more and my brain needs to envision the fantasy so that my life can expand.

 

Sometimes I come to this thing and I have it all figured out – it comes out like a beautiful story, eloquently written and purposed in a fashion that allows me to feel some sort of release and relief from its existence on the cyber page.

Right now… not so much. I feel scattered. I feel the avoidance of saying the things I really need to say. I feel the hair in my mouth.

I have to and want to acknowledge the things I worry about because I am afraid to allow myself to be who I am. I dooooo allow it but I don’t. It’s on the internal scale that I am concerned. When I am by myself and I am not thinking about anyone else or any other circumstances I can do it. I talk to the Universe and I can do it.

I can admit that I am quite all over the place and that it’s the distraction and lack of discernment that challenges me and separates me from the clarity that leads to fulfillment. That I honestly still feel like I have no fking idea what I want to do with myself. I come out to myself as distracted and stuck in the shadow of distraction.

At night time I can do this. During the day it’s not as easy. My left eye twitches when something is off – it’s twitching now and it’s been twitching for a couple of hours.

 

Just say it already – that’s what I feel it is. The nervousness is showing up as a twitch in the eyelid of my life right now. I am not straight. I don’t know if I am gay but sometimes I wish I’d just say that to the world because I feel it would make it easier. Some sort of box to put myself in. The box that I never thought I’d end up in but also never not thought I’d end up in it lol ya know? Like never thought about it really …

I went to Ireland and literally everything opened up for me. I would say it changed but it didn’t change. The world OPENED UP. Arms open wide and me with a blank slate to just allow myself to emerge from the new territory I was in.

Girls started kissing me, I started kissing girls. It was fun and fine and wild and free. Then I left. And I left it all behind until I couldn’t anymore. I didn’t know that any of this was going to happen. But now it’s been 8 years since those experiences and here we are.

I worry – that people won’t come to my wedding if I end up with a woman. I worry that I will not be able to love myself or accept myself fully if I end up with a woman. I wonder about all of the things I’ve been taught. I wonder about how religious family members will take this and how they will treat me and what they will say. I’m not saying anything either way but what I’m saying is that I know that I have something to say about it.

Many things to say and I am tired of beating around the bush about it.

A couple of months ago my mom and I were watching the Hallmark Channel. Love a good Hallmark movie. We were talking about the main men in the movies – we always talk about them and discuss what our thoughts are on their looks LOL don’t judge. But we were discussing the one and saying how handsome he was and then mom said to me – you can talk to me about the women too ya know? If you want to talk about any of them etc etc.. something like this. I can’t remember the exact words but in my brain I can picture the exact moment and the words looking like the teacher from Charlie Brown LOL. It was something like that.

Why doesn’t it feel okay to do that? Why do I not want to talk about the women in the movies and how beautiful I think they are? I can… but not in that context. Why not?

Because it would feel like admitting to something and giving people a chance to put me in a box. I don’t want to be in a fking box. I commented today to someone about how I’ve been shocked into realizing just how unique each one of us is and that our set of beliefs can be that unique. Even though it doesn’t feel like it. A lot of the times for me it feels like there are sides. Two of them. And you are either on one side or the other. Whichever side you choose comes with a set of beliefs and assumptions and that’s it. Tribal mentality.

What about the individual? Well I got hit with that reminder today. In the best way. And so now I am realizing that I want to write about what the fk I want to write about. And I don’t particularly care if my grandmother sees it and she prays to Jesus for me or wants to save me because I HAVE TO LIVE WITH ME. I have to live with me. I have to live WITH ME. And I know that I am exactly as I am meant to be and whatever that means it is a process for me to uncover.

I haven’t known a deeper journey on this Earth than that of the journey of self-discovery. I want to be liberated. I have to liberate myself. Liberation is a perspective. I do care about my grandmother, don’t get me wrong. I love you though gram. But I have to be myself and that means allowing myself to say that YES I DATE WOMEN AND I LOVE WOMEN. I love them. And YES I have dated men and have loved men but I haven’t done that in a long time – not in 8 years really because I’ve been in two serious relationships with two amazing women who have changed my life in many many ways and I am grateful for it.

I have to allow myself to say that I had a flipping fairy tale built up of what I thought my life should be like and I still go so far as to hold myself back in fear by holding on to this fairy tale so tightly that I cannot even allow myself to let go.

I need a frame that’s why. I need a frame for this pathless path* that we are all on. Restrictions and frames help me to find freedom and liberation from the endless options. Falling into the sea of the endless options to me is torture. Not free. The opposite of free.

Free is this – I am queer AF. I do what I want and I love who I want. And I like that about myself. And I want to talk about that more to whoEVER. I admitted this to myself months ago. I actually admitted to myself that I am gay. As I said I am still wrestling with that because I don’t like the boxes and I also don’t feel that I’ve felt that about myself since I was little etc etc. There is still some investigating going on there.

But what I am sure about is that I am so tired of holding myself back from self-expression and the kind of out-loud, talking about it, writing about it discovery process that fuels me and makes me feel like I am closer to myself. I am tired of doing that just to maintain the image of who I have been to people. Who I have been to these people is based off of who I was seen to be through their eyes when I was too young to fight my own corner. When I was showing myself but not being acknowledged as my own individual. Nooooo thank you.

See me. SEE ME NOW. See. Me. Because I love you, no matter what you do or say or who you are. Can you do the same? If you cannot, then I hope you can ask yourself why that is.

I am doing that – I ask myself why every single time I get quiet enough to realize that I still don’t love me no matter what I say or do or who I am. It pokes.

Ever heard that phrase from the video where the kids say it’s raining no it’s drizzling … then one kid pokes the other and the kid says – You poked my heart.

WOW. That has been the best phrase ever learned. For me anyway.

Because when I ask myself why I don’t love myself no matter what I say or do or who I am – it pokes my heart.

How can that work? How does that work? I want to know – how the HELL can you live a life without fully accepting who you are in that life? It’s been torture to say the least. And before I was aware of what so much of it was about… it was even more torture.

People who are older than me grew up in a different world than I did. Everyone is actually growing up in a different world than I am because we all see with our own eyes.

But none of us know where we go when we go to sleep. And I suppose I just keep wondering how much it all matters. How much does it matter – what we do here when we are here as humans? How does that impact where we go? Does it even impact it at all? These are things that I feel I wasn’t taught or even allowed to question aloud. But I am now because it feels less scary than keeping the questions inside. Either way the questions are here.

I am interested in doing some inner child work. I feel that there are pieces of me that have escaped because they learned at one point or another that they were not wanted. Pieces have been chipped away and I want them all back.

I want them all back. I want to stand firm in my beliefs in who I am and find my people.

I love the people who have found me. I love the people who I’ve been given. But now I want to find my people and let people find me for ALL of me.

I want to start fking writing about all of the things I want to flipping write about.

This human experience. Expressing myself through these words that come out through my finger tips that seem to spill either from my head, my heart or both at any given time. All of it… I want the juiciness. I want the elation, the despair, the madness, the molting, the revolting, details of the emotive expression of language and even when language fails I want the attempts to be here.

 

YES. YESSSSSSS yes yes. And this is my place you know? It’s mine. My place this is my place where I write. Fk having it connected to all my social media so everyone can see it and read it and tell me how great I am FK THAT fk all of that. I want you to read this if you want to be here. I want you to read this if you feel called to be here. I want you to read this if you stumbled across it and now you are reading this.

 

I want to write this because I need it, want it, embrace it. More than anything I want to build my life out of writing, out of story telling. More than anything.

A beautiful cabin somewhere in nature, writing all day every day or whenever I want to LOL. And sharing stories and talking about stories and making stories.

It’s cathartic really. And it’s life. It’s life expression… it’s living life through the finger tips.

I love you.

Talk soon,

 

B-

 

*The pathless path is a phrase given to me by a dear sister-friend and mentor of mine Melissa Rae. Thank you Melissa <3

** Photo is taken in Clonakilty Ireland by yours truly.