Mr. Big Stuff…
I find myself asking myself this question. Just who the fuck do I think I am doing all of this? Having a debut, solo installation, an art opening, and friends who support me, it feels strange and awfully unearned.
Even though I know that’s not a kind way to talk to myself, I can’t help but feel the need to pinch myself. Can this all be real?
Who do I think I am, coming out more than once?
I ended my 5 year-long relationships with my primary partner today because a truth that has whispered itself to me for years and years finally came out:
I’m a lesbian.
I deserve to own my identity, as hard and as scary as it feels.
One of my main fears has been, “Are Lesbians lonely?” As if I’m some sort of bog witch now, doomed to stomp around muddy forests barefoot and in tattered clothing.
Unlearning internalized homophobia is going to be an ongoing thing, but I’m so glad to be over this hump.
I was so grateful for the love and time he and I had together. And he deserved to know the truth:
That women make me feel like I’m a divine being, that anything is possible. And I’m not broken for not feeling that way about men.
I’m filled with so many things. I want to celebrate. I want to cry some more. I want to be held. I want to go on a walk. I think I’ll start with cleaning my home.
