These are Just some of the Things

Our wedding anniversary is in 15 days. No one is banking on us being able to do much, as I will be one day closer to my last round of chemo infusions, and I have gotten more sick with each one. Kayla's mom is here again, just like last year, to help. This time she's not making pies, helping sew finishing touches on our wedding clothes and preparing for family and friends to be here for our magical weekend. She's cleaning our house and maintaining our yard. She is touching things we haven't been able to reach for lack of time, money, energy. It's nice to have her here. It's comforting to feel like someone is taking care of Kayla. It hasn't been easy. For me, that's a given. As for Kayla, I've seen her coping right before my eyes. Like an extension of my brain and like clockwork she makes the world still go round. She works constantly. Sometimes I think I am disappearing. She often reminds me that I'm not. For me it takes a lot of reminding. This cancer is like quicksand. It's difficult to muddle through. I reckon I will find a way to keep afloat, and that I will reach a place of normalcy in my life. Maybe even joy. I hope so...

Because, I am suddenly consumed with worry about my prognosis. I have managed to get this far into this cancer journey without asking too many questions about my chances of survival or recurrence. When I asked my oncologist at our last appointment, "So, how do we know that all this worked?" He kind of chuckled and shook his head. "We will know in time. There aren't any blood tests that are going to show us. We just have to wait and see." Without getting into too much detail about the cancer itself, I will just say here that there are two characteristics of it that exist simultaneously and are also slightly opposing and that make my cancer slightly rare and more aggressive. I think it's something like 35% of breast cancers have both of these characteristics. This means that there are two different ways of looking at my survival rate, but those two percentages have to be considered in lieu of the other. I find it confusing so I realize that as a reader this might not make a lick of sense of it at all. Due to this sudden lack of certainty I feel a little trapped in this state of mind that is a whirlwind of what ifs, and why even bothers. I will find a way to tie all of this confusion into a neat little bow eventually. It's just that right now I'm in pain. I'm sick. Im sore. Im stiff. Im lonely. I hardly recognize my own face. Im scared. And there is a little taste of bitterness in my mouth.

Sometimes the effortlessness of existence that people crank out around us astonishes me. It's just that when Kayla and I managed to pull out our wedding from scratch last year, it symbolized the building of a foundation from what we were determined to build upon. We were hunting for an ease, a bite of that effortlessness. We spent so many of our efforts rapidly weaving our safety nets and our home into a happy nest. We built. But then the diagnosis. I just look around at the ease and effortlessness that I imagine in the lives around me and wonder if I will ever feel a part of that momentum. Like I'm not expecting to be denied or to lose or to die, even. These are the things I'm supposed to be learning not to fear. Loss, denial, death. These are just some of the things.

Pros

I am on round 2 of 6 chemo treatments. I am less terrified the second time around. But new things come up. There is so much to process at such a rapid rate.

Kayla and I are nearing our one year wedding anniversary. The idea of qualifying our relationship in such a way is what inspired me to start this blog. We were rookies when we met. We had under our belts failed attempts at intimacy and failed relationships, a poor standard of communication and little to no example of how it could be done. But we found in each other the need to prevail at this. We found a desire to learn, to grow, to bend and to fight full heartedly for something that was separate from ourselves. Commitment. Marriage. Fidelity. Family.

And here we are. Our marriage is almost a year old. And we have my cancer to contend with. And sometimes I feel like all I think about is the cancer. I think what happens is that we are both so busy kicking ass at kicking cancer in the ass that we forget to check in, to connect. We carry on with our lives, convincing ourselves and each other and the world around us that everything is going to be fine.

Only a few short months ago I felt so youthful. I was visualizing my pregnancy. The youthful thirty something with the baby bump and the glowing skin, practicing yoga with my long thick hair twisted into a bun, pedicured feet, contented smile...Kayla building furniture for the nursery, tool belt and tight T-shirt clad...

Now, I notice myself in conversations, reminding anyone who will listen that even though my last chemo treatment is in April, that is not the end of this little detour. I still have a year of herceptin, possibly five years of hormone blockers (or not), check ups, scans, loss of fertility, plastic tits, hot flashes, ovarian cancer screenings, the list goes on... Plus, I have a strong suspicion based on the way we survivors cling to one another in online forums, long after treatment is done, that this is a ride I will forever be on. I think I'm nervous that everyone without cancer's expectation of me, that my wife's expectation of me, is that after chemo, then after I get my new boobs, that everything is going to go back to "normal". But, what will I have lost? Can I even fathom that now? During treatment there is little room for mourning and loss. It is all I can do to keep my spirits high enough to fight. And I manage to be strong, to be positive, to be fearless. But in this trial there are hundreds of little ropes, and eventually I reach the end of each one...and the fears come tumbling out.

But she's scared too. And when we finally stop flexing and curtsying for the world for a moment, and talk to each other, I realize this. There are moments like these that I believe are born of our love, commitment and our determination to see each other through life, regardless of what that life looks like. So when I blubber into her shirt that I'm scared of her expectations, that I can't be sure that I have resolved myself the desire to carry our child, that I'm afraid I may still break down when this is over, and that I may need help, that I find it still so fucking difficult to relate to anyone without cancer, she doesn't seem disappointed. She reminds me that besides me, she is the person carrying the heaviest load from this. And that when this is all over she may need to break down too. And there are no expectations. Except for the one. That each of us would maintain the need and desire to be married with one another. I think you could call us pros.

Anterior to Life

"Love is anterior to life
Posterior to death,
Initial of creation, and
The exponent of Breath~Emily Dickinson

Today was a good day. I have come a long way in a short time. A cancer diagnosis does that to you. You find out you have it. Your life as you know it ends. You live in limbo. You begin to accept that you have cancer. you do so by waking up each morning feeling for a millisecond that you know your life, and then remembering that you now have cancer. And with each moment you gain the strength and the knowledge and hopefully the support to empower you to make the decisions to not only carry on and function with the knowledge of your having cancer, but finding the tools to get rid of it, or fight it, whichever your case may be. You learn that you will change, your life will change, your perspective will change, your partner may change, and a number of other things will most likely change. So, here I am 10 days post bilateral mastectomy and having one of the better days I have had since diagnosis. Despite the scars, my under construction, nipple free boobs look fantastic in clothing and they don't scare the shit out of me or make me cry when I see them naked in the mirror. In fact, I love to show them off. They don't yet feel like they belong to me. I wonder if they will ever feel "private" again. I still have drains which make it a total pain in the ass to get dressed. You have to hide the drains somehow, in my case today, duct tape on the inside of my cashmere cardigan best served me with a suitable disguise (thanks to the infamous Kayla who is a superhero freak of nature that has the ability to solve, with little to no resource,everything that needs solving). Today is the second day that I have actually bothered to wear real pants or put on mascara in over 10 days. It was because Kayla needed a haircut and I still cant do it and we desperately needed to leave the house. So we went to the shop. I love my new short haircut. My skin looks fantastic. I got some new lipstick and some fancy hand me down clothes from my bestie's fashionista mom. I've gained five lbs but I'm willing to ignore it for a minute and cut myself a break. I've been high on narcotics for over a week and I'm bound to get tired of the shit and start exercising one of these days. So overall I feel good. I feel cute. It was nice to see the girls and nice to see my chair, touch my stuff, hang out in my break-room, shop talk for a bit while Jen cut Kayla's hair. After her adorable haircut, we headed to one of our staples for dinner and our gals Shae and Jenny met us there. As always we had a good time and on our way home I spoke with my friend Mel about co hosting my birthday scarf party that we are holding on Sunday. She and her hubs are starting a party planning biz of sorts and I like to promote good people when I can so I asked them to help me with this little last minute project. As usual, as soon as we get home I check the Facebook. My grandma had, unbeknownst to her, unleashed a ripple of effects that would cause Kayla and I to end our evening crying in one another's arms. She commented on a photo that was taken of me by K a couple of months ago on a day date to our favorite Texas winery, William and Chris. On this particular day, we had just come up with the financial solution to how we were going to buy our sperm. We had found our donor. He was perfect. We were giddy with joy and excitement and every natural high feeling that comes along with standing at the brink of what you believe to be one if the biggest and most beautiful, important exciting abysses of joy in ones life. We were going to make a baby. We had a donor and we would be parents, probably by this time next year. Our morning conversation was giddy full,of laughter, high fives, and random jumping up and downs. We had started the date off at brunch, then a drive to our favorite spot in the hill country to pick up our wine club shipment and enjoy a glass. Next time we made this drive I would be the DD and we would pick up a couple of bottles to save until after the baby was born, talking about how we would build up our collection during the pregnancy instead of drinking our shipment with our usual unabashed enthusiasm within days of receiving them. We brought the dogs and flirted with a baby girl who was barely walking and talking and kept wobbling over to pat Marybelle and Bertie. As had become our regular routine with any activity we did, we talked about how these trips would be different for us once the baby was here. As young parents to be, we never went anywhere or did anything anymore without comparing the experience to how it would be once our little person was finally with us. When I look at this photo I see in my eyes how my heart felt that day. I had to harden myself to it, let it melt, and then give in. Just a glimpse into what could have been, what almost was. And with my sniffle, she instinctively moved in from the other room to hold me as I cried. And here we are, a few weeks shy of my first chemo treatment, out of full time work, celebrating the fact that my cancer has not spread and that there are drugs that will keep it from coming back, the same drugs that will prevent me from allowing a pregnancy. I have done a lot of processing on this front. To mourn the loss of motherhood, or at least the idea of physically carrying a child, had to happen quickly in order for me to have the oomph that was required to do what I needed to do to face the cancer treatment. For Kayla, it has been all about taking care of me, and taking over my roles in the household as well as her own, staying professionally available at work, upholding the health insurance, making the bacon, and generally keeping our little world turning, while Im kept busy making huge decisions about how to handle what's happening in my body. For her, it was about getting shit done so I could get well. Renovate the "would be"nursery into a yoga/healing room, turning the trashed out art studio into a family guest room, etc. etc. So, the funny thing about what happened tonight is that after I wiped my tears and blew my nose to go about my business, she found something light and funny for us to watch on TV. We decided on The New Normal, because I had heard it was cute and its a gay show so I'm down...It didn't occur to me that we were setting ourselves up for the little breakthrough that we so desperately needed to finish. In the pilot of the sitcom, one of the men in the gay relationship that wants to become a dad is recording a video for his future child to watch. He gets choked up as he is telling his unborn baby how desperately he or she is so wanted and already so very loved. My mouth dropped in that awkward smirk between a laugh and a cry and I look over to see my beautiful rock as she crumbles. We fall into each others arms and we cry for the first time together, for our baby that we won't yet get to meet. Our baby that will not come in 9 months from my womb, but in almost two years from hers, our baby that will not yet live in the nursery and will not yet celebrate its first Thanksgiving or Christmas next year. We cried finally, openly for what we feel somewhat robbed of.

But our baby is so very loved and wanted. Now more than when that photo was taken. And it's moms are so much more prepared. We are stronger for that baby. We are better for that baby. As for me, I am better because of this love. So grateful for this love. This is what we signed up for. I made the right choice. This is the First Day of My Life.

Woman Centric Life

The greatest universally understood goal in trying to achieve conception when consciously baby planning is to relax and eliminate stress. So silly because the conscious planning in itself is anxiety fructifying. That said I believe that I have been residing in a pretty awesome place since shortly after my last blog entry. The entry itself brought support via social media that was quite sweet and appreciated. Two women in particular that I hardly knew reached out and resulted in my inspiration to start a private lesbian baby planning support group on Facebook! The three of us planning to carry, along with our wives can now swap stories, share blogs, books, and offer inspiration and support. It has been a really cool thing thus far, and I doubt I would have gotten the idea if I hadn't been faced with the news of the dreaded high FSH levels. Its refreshing to find other couples with similar goals and lifestyles, also lesbians, to share in the journey of becoming parents, the not so old fashioned and sometimes incredibly overwhelming and confusing way. Then there are my precious jewels, the ladies with which we have developed close relationships with over the last few years, coming together for an uplifting impromptu dinner party last week. It was that night that I felt my anxiety truly begin to melt away. There is such great power in the support you gain from the people that know you and love you best, and unconditionally. It is no secret that we lead a female centric life, so it is actually no surprise to me that this is the place my soul has dug it's heels into, in preparation for our pregnancy attempts. I revel in my relationship with my amazing partner, in our cuddly monkeys and in the joy that these kick ass women bring to our lives. I am doing yoga, getting acupuncture treatments, taking herbs, and treating my body well. All of the above turns out to be my recipe for stress relief. I am finding myself observing throughout the days leading up to our first attempt, the peacefulness and stillness in my heart. It's all good.

Project Preparation

"What are you looking forward to these days?" asks a favorite client yesterday. I answer with a list of upcoming house projects and then change the subject to what he is looking forward to. My coworkers are all aware of the "thing" that is actually being discussed and planned more than any kitchen or house project. Even though this client is someone that I would never hesitate to share our newest endeavor with I suppose there is a part of me that is trying to preserve some sense of it not becoming the all consuming proverbial baby that things like making a baby just naturally become. So. There. We are planning for baby. We are at the point in our progression toward a family where it is actually kind of fun. There have been moments that have made our quest seem almost too daunting to attempt. There is the decision to become pregnant or adopt. There is the donor question. This can take a while, for us almost two years, to decide on a known or unknown donor, and with that decision comes all of the legal and situational considerations of that decision. Once that decision is made, there are cost considerations and the process just avalanches itself into a myriad of  hypothetical guessing games. Oh, how riveting. But I digress. Now it is kind of fun. We love a project, and the one at hand is Project Preparation: The Body Episode. Doc gave me suggestions on how to tinker with my diet to make things more conception friendly, things like reducing caffeine intake and exercising regularly. We have taken things to the next level and are following a somewhat more stringent regimen. I have almost given up coffee and chocolate and cheese(whhaaa?) all together. This is no small feat for me.  I have reduced my alcohol intake dramatically. Before, we could kill a bottle of red several nights out of the week. Now, just a little red wine with dinner feels luxurious. I smell it more than I drink it, and that not only pacifies, but leaves more (sober) energy for fun projects around the house. Knock down a wall anyone? Tear up some floors? I'm down! I am taking the fancy expensive whole foods prenatals along with some Chinese herbs, and eating and preparing foods that are better for my digestion, and paying close attention to the quality of food that I eat. Another fun thing is the new language we are learning. Our morning conversations now include statements like "What is your basal body this morning, honey?" "No LH surge today! I am guessing I will ovulate on Saturday." And then there is the adorable question that Kayla has been asking me for at least a year, "When does our baby get here?" Hopefully not much longer.

Like Whoa

Happy election season, everyone!  I have layers of emotions to pilfer through. There are four major competing emotions.  These four culprits are to blame for my lack of expression, pertaining to this blog specifically.  When so many areas of my mind are clogged up in competition for my attention, it is difficult for me to believe that I am capable of expressing anything that isn't regurgitated or lackluster, with all of the BS that is swarming our senses literally every second that we "plug in". 

Since this is supposed to be a blog about marriage, more specifically a blog about an unrecognized gay marriage, I feel obligated to keep up with the blog, even as all of the above culprits work against my creative juices during this particular election season. In an effort to produce something legible and mildly interesting, I began three separate drafts before heading to the shower, relinquishing myself to another barren blog day.  Finally, as I was on around stroke 90 of my 100 nightly hair-brushings I decided to kick the buckets of the last three drafts and try to express instead my main reasons for procrastination, give each culprit a name, and talk about why they haunt me. This is an exercise to open my mind and heart in hopes that something real and more meaningful can escape from the bars of my blocked intellect in future blog posts during this political season.

Anxiety/fear

 I fear a Republican president. Fiscally, I fear for the amount of lower and middle class Americans buying into a presidential candidate who does not have their best interest in mind. My opinion and belief is that while neither party is perfect and sound, the Democratic party represents my values and the values of "the people." I come from a family of doers, but we have had our struggles, and I have personally depended on pell grants and loans to aid in my education. As long as I can remember, I have identified with a "folksier" idealism.   This is the main reason why the Democratic platform speaks to me.  Secondly, I  hate that we are debating over civil rights for gay people and that we still face so many hurdles in order to gain the rights that my community so greatly deserves. I loathe the idea of taking major steps backward when we have taken great leaps toward equality in only the last couple of years.  Finally, I like affordable health care. My experience with it thus far has been pretty sweet. The refund check from my old insurance company, due to the affordable health care act was an added bonus.  I would prefer that not to go away. 

Hope/excitement

On the other hand, gay marriage is officially on the Democratic party platform. This is huge! This is wonderful! The feeling in my heart is like Christmas!  We are at the brink of real change. The idea that I could someday legally marry my wife in the state where we live fills me with so much hope and joy. The idea of future generations in our shoes, not having to experience the ugliness that surrounds this debate today is refreshing.  It is beautiful. I can taste it... we are so fucking close. 

Frustration

Demons come out in people in hot political climates. I hate the aggressive comments on Facebook, the outright bigotry, the disregard for others' feelings or personal plight. Self righteousness and arrogance trump reason, hard facts and manners. I am saddened that we seem to forget that we are all human. Most of us care deeply about our community, our country, and what our future, and the futures of our children will hold. We forget that there is room for all of us in this country, and we should be able to cooperate and work together to improve our own lives and those lives around us. There is certainly room for us to disagree, but there is no room in my heart, personally, for blatant disrespect.  Those of us whom are of legal age to vote are supposed to be grown ups, and I am afraid not everyone is acting the part. There seems to be more name calling, shit slinging and finger pointing than fact checking and researching, or even soul searching.  More so, I detest the ugliness that the demons bring out in people that I know or have known in the past. I like to practice keeping an open heart and mind, essentially believing that we are all inherently good and that things like hate, disrespect,and bigotry are somehow learned, or are stemmed from self consciousness or fear. Having such a deeply personal issue on the hot seat tests my compassion for people who believe themselves morally superior, especially when their example speaks quite the opposite.  I have to find a way to stand up for myself while keeping my personal peace intact.  It is uncomfortable at best, threatening at times. 

Romance

Kayla and I were set up on a semi blind date to watch the vice presidential debates four years ago. I was already impressed by her scorching good looks and her movie tastes listed in her Myspace profile, and as awkward as our first meeting was, her whip smart  commentary during the debate had me swooning. I was thrilled when she asked me to stay afterward for a beer, and from there we proceeded our rather slow courtship that resulted in the rockstar relationship that we have today. We honeymooned through the election season and baked an apple pie for America the night before the election, when we decided that we would be in a relationship, officially, and discussed in detail what that decision meant to each of us.  So when Obama was elected, we were fresh in love, full of hope for ourselves and our relationship, and full of a bursting hope for our country, that we agreed so passionately was not in the best hands with former President Bush. We cried and held hands as we watched him give his acceptance speech. It was so romantic and wonderful. People were dancing in the streets from west campus to downtown east Austin. I felt patriotic for the first time since I was a little girl, and I imagine those dancers in the street were feeling something similar.  So, as we begin to feel the first winds of fall blow into town, and feel the buzz of energy of election season spring into life, I can't help but have flashbacks of the woman I met four years ago, the sexy little beast who hates onions as much as I do and loves Pedro Almodovar, almost certainly more than I do.  She has deeply affected me, helped me to grow stronger and more solid in my convictions.  She holds my heart and breathes my ideals.  She feeds my passion, supports my endeavors and rocks my world.

These culprits compete for my attention.  I would love to spend these days dazzled by my love, and relishing in the memories of our budding romance that is still so strong today...but we are here now.  At this place in time.  And shit got serious.  We are a family now.  We share a house.  We share a life.  We are ready to have children.

We need this election.

Like Whoa. 

The Cool Married Club

I took the weekend off from blogging. We had a Weird Science themed surprise birthday party to attend on Friday night. Saturday we went to Marble Falls to join Camp Pizza. Camp Pizza was a weekend camping/wedding event for Kayla's workmates, Henri and Sara. They got married on Saturday evening. A lot of the others were camping out on Friday as well, but we joined them in time for a tree house party, followed by lots of wedding fun. The wedding was super sweet, and champagne corks arbitrarily popped during the ceremony. Afterwards we had wonderful wine, amazing food, and a very fun dance party. The Alamo crew knows how to throw down a good time and I always enjoy hanging out with them. On our drive home we started chatting about some of the other couples that we really enjoy spending time with. There are several guys who work in Kayla's department that she has always admired, and one attribute that they have in common is that they have awesome marriages. Once I met and spent a little time with them with their wives I understood the appeal. There isn't one guy from this category whom you would meet and within 10 minutes or so not know that he had a wife, and that he thinks his wife is awesome. I have spent some time with both of these couples and am also impressed by their mutual respect, obvious friendship, and pronounced commitment to their relationship. This struck a conversation about marriage in general. This seems to be a topic that we enjoy! We talked about how there seems to be a new wave of folks who are putting a new value on marriage. We consider ourselves to be part of this club. Marriage might have started to be looked upon pessimistically because a lot of folks in our culture don't take it seriously. We may have realized that one rusty idea of marriage seems like an institution that derived from something that our culture no longer stands for. Many of us are children of failed marriages and haven't grown up with much hope that it works. Many have been through marriages and realized that they were based on something that wouldn't stick, a need to please others, or maybe to be respected in our families, a pregnancy, or just an attempt at a marriage with a person without having a mutual and clarified understanding as to why the hell you were entering into it. But alas! Quite possibly something other than pessimism has been derived from the way some us have experienced our lives as products of our culture. The difference might be that we get married a little later than people historically have. We are experiencing ourselves as individuals a little longer than we used to. We have entered into other relationships without the end result of marriage being in mind. There is no pressure from ourselves because we have taken the need for that pressure away. We are individually capable of living our lives. We are individually capable of supporting ourselves and living meaningful, creative and successful lives. So it is a different thing all together when we spend time with another person and say "Hey, I want to marry you." It isn't because of God or because of parents or because of babies or romance, necessarily, and certainly not entirely. It is because we value ourselves, we value another person, and we value a partnership. The partnership, the relationship, the marriage...becomes an entity of its own. We value a relationship model where two people can together be better than one of those people can be on their own. It is because we have met that person who is so awesome, compliments us so greatly, helps us to better stand for what we stand for, better be who we want to be, that we decide to get married. That is awesome.

Here we are at Camp Pizza!

Power in a Word

One of my favorite clients/friends came in for a haircut today. He is half of one of the most inspirational couples that I know, and a very thoughtful, creative, innovative, kind, and generous individual. Our visits are often silly and light, but never without a thoughtful interlude or discussion about family, relationships, marriage, spirituality and small business management. He and his wife came to our wedding and of course we had to dish about the event, a little over a week later. We chatted about the connection that was found at their dinner table during our reception. They were seated at a four top table with another lesbian couple that we know, and they hit it off right from the start. I put so much love and energy into the seating arrangement, and I knew that he and his wife would get along well with the ladies we sat them next to. It turns out that they were curious at best about the couple they were seated with, but within a few minutes they knew that it must have been purposeful on our part. They were so thrilled with the arrangement that they exchanged numbers at the end of the night. He wanted to talk about my family being there, commenting on his observation about my parents, other folks that he met, and of course the band. The discussion then moved on to life after the wedding. "Will you refer to Kayla as "wife" now?" He asked. It is a valid question, since in our culture thus far, we don't have a norm, per say for what to call your same sex partner. To one another, probably like many other couples, Kayla and I refer to each other in more than one way. Sometimes we call each other "wife" or "wifey". Sometimes I call Kayla "husband", and she even refers to herself as "husband", though that is more a playful term of endearment reserved for the two of us. I appreciated the question because it made me realize that sometimes my behavior in public, to strangers, or to new clients for instance, is subconsciously intentionally designed to be palatable to a wide range of audiences. I answered that I usually refer to Kayla as "my partner", but I still often call her "my girlfriend". I appreciate that he asked me the question because it made me think about why I call her either of those things. It is second nature for me to call her my "partner" because that is the word that has become to be understood in our modern language to mean "same sex spouse", or even in some cases, an opposite sex spouse that for one reason or the other is not married or does not want to be referred to as married. His response to my answer was that he often finds it confusing when people refer to one another as "partner", for instance a man and woman that he knows who work together refer to one another as "partner", though he knows that they are romantically involved. He wonders if they are referring to their business or personal relationship. When I refer to Kayla as my partner I assume that people find it easy to distinguish because Kayla and I are not running a business together, but we live together and are building a life together. He shared that after he and his wife were married, he felt so proud to refer to her as "wife". He says it isn't even to do that much about her, but about the status that it refers to. "I am a married person. I am not dating, I am not even seriously dating. I am married. I have reached the point in life where I am making serious, important, permanent decisions." The entire conversation leaves me thoughtful, and I'm grateful for it. It reminds me that there is often a part of us that is kept closeted, even those of us that live our lives out loud in almost every way. We let others assume things about us because it is easier sometimes to not have to explain. I am reminded of when I was 19 and realizing this amazing truth about myself, and it felt like the deepest breath of fresh air on the inside, but facing the world that I had known up to that point I felt suffocated. A strange dichotomy is feeling so free and proud on one hand, but on the other, terrified and trembling at the idea of translating that new found freedom and pride out loud. My response to that fear was to shave my head, stop wearing make up, and don combat boots and baggy ripped up jeans. I have long been able to look back on that time in my life and recognize the reason for drastically changing the way that I looked. If I was unattractive to men, and stood out as an irregular girl or a girl that didn't give a fuck what people thought about how I looked, then I could get my message across without having to speak it out loud. I did not have the support or the confidence or the courage to tell everyone that I was a lesbian, so I turned myself into a walking billboard. I am thankful that I no longer suffer that fear on the level that can be paralyzing, but I am reminded that I do still suffer from a self inflicted need to please others. I am thankful that I work in an industry and live in a community that allows me to be outspoken about who and what I am. But there are still times when I hesitate to share something that my listener might not give a second thought to, and it comes from a rooted (unjust and irrational) fear that I will no longer be a "legitimate" member of society in their eyes. Maybe that is why I don't call Kayla "my wife" without a second thought. After all, it is just a word, but my friend and client reminded me today that there is great great power in a word.