Ad-dressing Gender

It is always the same old cliche...'is that a woman or a man?' You always seem out numbered...you don't dare make a stand!
It is always the same old cliche…’is that a woman or a man?’
You always seem out numbered…you don’t dare make a stand!

Typically I save my ranting and raving for more subtle things…poetry, images of trash laid upon Mother Nature’s doorstep…political videos that make absolutely no sense to the common public.

Well, I am going Unplugged and Unedited on an issue that has plagued me and my delicate nature…for decades.

A few days ago, a middle aged woman, good looking yet elusive in dress, entered her local discount goods and gun store for a simple purchase, an inner tube that would pleasure her lady friend whilst they paddled their way around a very secluded and romantic pond.

As is typical, this ancient athlete did not stop to puruse the ‘celebrate it in fashion’ isle.  She did not meander near the latest…’you should leave it in the bin because the movie was shit when it first came out’ cheap and easy DVD barrel.

Quick and to the point had been her journey!

Why the upright, brisk and no delay shopping?  Our lady of the fashion senseless…knew what she would encounter if she stayed and/or strayed too long near the women’s lingerie or the female hygene with hyginks isle.

She would get what always came about.  She would be held captive to ignorance in a blue vest and name tags such as; Dotty, Spike and Lolanda!

‘Thank you sir…and have a good day!’

or

‘Mommy, that man is in the wrong bathroom!’

I tell you what..Nothing assures me that we have not come that far with equality and grace and acceptance…as the above statements.  For as sure as the day is long and filled with ignorance…the media and society alike will grant children and it’s adoring public…images on what it is to be a woman and what it takes to be a man!

I will also tell you…there is no bigger slap in the face for a potentially sexually and identity confused suicidal teen…than the wrong guess, jokingly or sincere..at their gender.

It insures the newby lesbian, transgender, gay male and bi-sexual teen that if society has not quite got a grasp on addressing you as a person…certainly coming out of the closet is the last thing you want to do.

I remember as a teenager.  Looking, I suppose, like a Tomboy: dirt under my nails, tan on my shoulders and muscles where girls did not have muscles.  I recall those attributes, as well as, the lack of pink items in my wardrobe…I also heard the curious onlookers stating:

‘You can’t go in there…that’s a women’s bathroom’

or

‘Are you a girl or a boy?’

I cried nights, avoided confrontational situations and let go of the idea that it was okay to be different.  I endured horrible days, years and seconds second guessing that indeed…I was just me not a gender!

Little gestures mean so much.  Particularly to those who are confused and in need of acceptance.  Which happens to be a large portion of young L,B,G,T’s and old, not out of the closest, L.B.G.T’s.

What does it mean to address someone as something they are not?

It means that you are uncertain of who, what and how they are.  How they got to that particular juncture in life.  And, furthermore, the lack of understanding creates more and more bias.

Take a second…look at the stranger you are addressing.  If uncertain…just wish them a good day.  It does not really matter if they are a man or a woman.  They are just them.

My Momma’s Pride

Conventionality bars the truth from the bias
Conventionality bars the truth from the bias

Back before Rainbows were known to exist other than in the light of day…after a fresh and linen covered spring rain, I had thought something amiss.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like the God I had been shown. It had been more of a fear based and obscure presence that never released its grip on me.
Hatred, hangings, crosses to bare and/or bear and sins over running my beer mug! How distant the feelings I had been? No further away than the ache within my heart.
‘Was I bad? Had there been a mistake? Will this strange and unusual creature of habit…Me, change her ever-present freak stripes?’
Did I know gay? Brevity, maybe? Men with odd tastes for polyester and spangles. Or, perhaps, the ‘gay’ twenties where the roar came from the pits of rooms locked behind store fronts with no names.

Do Not Pester the Pride!
Do Not Pester the Pride!

Somewhere between the playing out of roles: Who gets to be Sabrina and who gets to be Farrah/Jill? Somehow linked from one end of the Good News Bible and my passion for watering down my ache. Between the sheets and not discrete attempts at playing ‘straight’…it all came out wrong like a bad love song.
I cried, of course, I shed tears…I do to this day.
How is it my parent’s child cannot be straight? What a disappointment, once again, in the normal kids rule class?
It is a shame my grandfather disowned me with words.

‘It is an abomination to mankind and a sore on the ass of the world’, he would have most likely whispered loudly to his uniformed friends.
The train that took me so many times before into a land of semi comfort and acceptance left South station and never looked for me again.
How difficult it must be not to know where to begin your history…when your past has been clouded by bias and poor judgement by the powers that be.
In the end, I sat a six-pack down on an oak table in the heart of This Land is Your LandNew Hampshire. I shook and wondered what will become of me? I waited until she arrived. She held my tiny hand and fresh kissed skin when I arrived in this world.   And most likely, I will hold her hand as she departs for greener pastures.
‘I have something you need to know…I can’t hide it anymore. It’s just how it is!’
No response from her or a language of body movements would have helped. The room seemed shallow and filled with demon ghosts from confusion past.
‘I am GAY! I’ve tried to not be…but it just ain’t working.’
These were the rhetorical words that still carry the burden of my nonconformist ways today. A forever covenant… in which I feel safe enough to unveil even the darkest of truths.

Go answer your calling  Go and fill somebody's cup  And if you see an angel falling  Won't you stop and help her up
Go answer your calling
Go and fill somebody’s cup
And if you see an angel falling
Won’t you stop and help her up

 

 

“Oh, is that it? I was waiting for you to figure that out…Well, dear,  as long as it will make you happy”
We never really understand the understanding statements we make until the clouds lift and we see the light. My mother, bless her sainted heart, most likely felt she didn’t say enough.
My mother had said with few words what the world should be learning everyday:

…as long as you’re happy…

Really isn’t that all that matters when it comes to matters of the heart?

Sweet Little Lies

English: No Homophobia logo
English: No Homophobia logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I hate the closet.  I like the attic, sometimes, but it reminds me of a big closet.  Lying to me about whom and what I am is the most disrespectful thing I can do to myself.  Lies are closets dressed up with words.

I perform the act of deceit hourly with Mother Theresa.  I look out to the street below.  I watch as people jog in and out of the park.  It is all so manual.  I get up early, I text Zoey, I tell her my woes.  I attempt to do some photography online.  I go downstairs and eat.  Sit down, turn the TV on , eat, text and avoid the facts.

As the summer passed into fall, fall into winter, relationships came and went; the lies became part of the history that is Ambien Grace and Mother Theresa.

Ambien’s Top Ten lists of Lies:

1. How was your golf game today Ambien?  Mother Theresa would ask.  Giving no mention to the fact that I hadn’t picked up a club in a year or so.  What was I supposed to say ‘great and oh ya. My girlfriend got me completely soaked and did nothing about it…so my game was way off. I was dripping wet!  Thanks for asking Mum!’

Instead, the lie comes out of the closet; Zoey is learning slowly, she’ll get it one of these days.  Zoey had been my walking and talking lie.

2. Working doubles, sometimes, triples at work had been a handy lie.  Yet, it kept me out of the closet for the day.  Yo, Mother Theresa, guess what, if I had been at work, most likely I was screwing some unsuspecting employee in the Grooming room.

3.  Photography is a great avoidance of the truth.  The wedding photos that took months to finish…Not true, could have had them done; yup, you guessed it, I was busy having sex on a public beach.

4.  Taking my meds, not taking my meds.

5.  Cutting, mutilating and crying.

6.  Going to a friend’s house

7.  Drinking

8.  Being engaged to a married woman.

9.  The nights at Bianca’s?  No, I had actually rented a hotel room for my psycho-bitch girlfriend and I.  We had sex for eight hours straight.

10.    Life, Mum, I lie to you about life and here is why:

I don’t like being kept in a closet.  My photos and photo projects that you, Theresa, bestow on me would have been done a long time ago but I put it off to see women.

I lied to my Mum of my whereabouts, snuck around the kennel just to get a simple kiss from someone.  I lie about that to this day.

The repercussions of not lying to Mother Theresa, linguist and elitist extraordinaire are endless like the dirty laundry that forms piles on my hardwood floor.

If SHE found out…SHE’D probably kick me out and I have nowhere to go and I’d be screwed!”

When I masturbated I could get the anger out!  What I cut I could get the anger out!  When I sit and text and sit and text and cry; the anger remains in my heartless heart.

Lying isn’t anything compared to the incarceration of homophobia.

Emotional Baggage Carrier Wanted

Georgia O'Keefe
Georgia O’Keefe (Photo credit: Martin Beek)

Don't Leave Em Hangin

Mother Theresa and I went clothes shopping not too long ago. I actually picked out my very first pair of ‘work boots’ and paid for them out of my own pocket.  Take that world, I am an adult at 22 and can manage a bank account.  I have the shoes and a Car hart jacket I purchased online and I did it all by myself!

Honestly, I would have let Theresa pay but she wouldn’t have for obvious reasons; work boots and work jackets are the international symbols for LESBIAN!

Driving up past Pleasant Street, turning down onto Auburn, out the window I caught a glimpse of Penny.  Shit, no, it can’t be Penny, that whore is back in Tyler, Texas, where I left her.  The chic by our house must just be passing by with her paint a billboard on it ass and clothes of unnatural earth tones.

I smirk to myself and Theresa catches on to my good mood,

“Ambien, what’s wrong with you?  You didn’t like any of the bras I bought you, slouched the whole time in the store but now you’re smiling?”

I lie and say, “Just happy to be with you MUM.”

Inside though, the tape recorder is playing and the scene is set:

All, or at least some, of my Ex’s live in Texas!

Penny had texted me in this scene, it is an all too familiar scene, she is not gay and I am not gay, but we found friendship in our mutual respect for drinking stupidity and ignorance to the plight of being homosexual.

Ok Ambien. If that’s what you want to believe. Right on. I’ll talk to you later, sorry but I’m not in the best of moods to have this conversation. ” Penny :(( I can’t handle this anymore!

.. She had just contacted me that afternoon bitching about a girl who was talking about her sex life…meaning, Penny slept with some guy.  I’m good at reading between the lines.

We had a shitty relationship when we’re apart but when we’re together it was amazing, the sex sucked though!  Can win for losing!

Just as Theresa puts the car in park and rolls up to the side of our several more than fifteen room house, garden nestled in and majestically white all over, she says, “Ambien, I know we talk about it all the time but just what are you planning to do with your life?”

I knew what I had planned on doing up until recently.

i dont know where ill do grad school/texted to Kate, another girlfriend, from me. 

*I think the English needs a little work before I bang out any exams for Grad school.  Tru Dat!

Next text went like this:

-im looking at nyc or texas …but i want texas for the wrong reasons.

*Maybe I should have been an English major.  I do believe I missed my calling.

In ending, Kate had said life is too short to not follow your love.

I had followed up with a text after attempting to understand that deep thought:

-i just want to be at UT Austin: 4 hrs from Penny and great city.  She’ll figure out the sex thing eventually. I know we’ll have our time someday, I hope!

Theresa hates her though she’s never met her.  Hates her because she cheated on me!  Guess what Mother Theresa, I cheated on her!  The lies I have fed Theresa are endless.

Penny had been a get back at another girlfriend whose name I cannot remember.  Kate had been, a get back at Penny, girlfriend.  All girlfriends have been a get back at someone else mistake.

I hear from Penny, every now and then, when she is lonely and needs me to fill her ego.  It always ends up the same:

You were never a backup Ambien. When I slept with Tyler I thought about you. Yes I know that’s shitty but you were still on my mind. I told you before it just happened. I’m not goin to have this conversation with you. If you want to bash me, go ahead you have every right. I won’t say anything back. If you need to get it out of your system, go right on ahead. But I refuse to argue with you. “- Penny

A good reason why I drank so much was because of her.  A good reason why I did drugs was because of my mother.  A good reason why I am in the attic still and mostly likely will die there with my boredom and sexual deviation is because of Kate.

Shit, fuck, why is it these women are attacking me?  Don’t they know who I am?  I am FINE!  Fucked UP, Insecure, neurotic and emotional.

Yes I am

Your Little Secret
Your Little Secret (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In a moment’s haste…Ambien Grace discovers that not only is Melissa Etheridge gay but so are a whole bunch of others!

When the darkness and answers are thin
Lovers come and check out in a hurry
Shallow and hollow again
Come lay your body beside me
To dream to sleep with the lamb
To the question your eyes seem to send

Yes, I am, Mother or at least, I want to be,
Ambien