Space and Body - a creative expression of my journey

Last year a friend encouraged me to find a way to creatively express some of the powerful transformation I have been going through. Naturally for me, I turned to dance. Dance has been such a part of this journey and has been so instrumental in helping me connect with and accept who I am. I asked my dear friend Nicole Curry – Coley, to work with me. She is a talented choreography, a super creative woman and above all, one of the most beautiful souls I know. Working with her was such an honor and pleasure. I cannot adequately express how much I appreciate her. Today I’m delighted to share with you the result of our collaboration.

Look How Far You've Come

Yesterday marked one year since I came out to my entire social network. I don’t think of this date as my coming out anniversary, though in a way it is. My local friends had known for a few months by this time last year, but I had kept my online profile as neutral as possible – largely out of fear. I was afraid foremost of losing my job when my transition became public knowledge. I was also afraid of the response many of my older friends and acquaintances would have. Fear – it has robbed me of so much in my life.

After the Pulse nightclub shootings though, I knew the time had come to confront that fear and declare myself to the world. I saw the silence of many old friends in response to the targeted attack on an LGBTQ safe place – in particular on a night celebrating Latinx LGBTQ. I saw them describe it as a religious terror attack, because that was the only lens they were comfortable looking through. I cannot remember that anyone was so callous as to say it explicitly, but I wonder if some didn’t harbor a certain sympathy for the shooter. After all, god hates the gays, right?

Observing this erasure of a community I knew myself to be a part of, I could no longer remain silent. I could no longer simply enjoy the warm support of my small local community. Yes, my cocoon was comfortable and safe – for the moment. But I needed my whole world to know that “those” people who had been targeted and killed in Orlando were MY people. When they expressed their homophobic and transphobic views, they were attacking me, someone they knew personally. If you want to erase the gays from the world, you’ll have to erase me as well. – Some old friends and acquaintances did.

Obviously yesterday did not mark the one year anniversary of the shootings. I had planned to change my name officially, so I combined that event with my public coming out. On June 21, 2016, accompanied by my dear friend Magda, I went to the county courthouse, stood before a judge and was granted the name that truly belonged to me. We took this picture as we had lunch afterwards. (Not the greatest selfie of me, but the event is significant, so I keep it.) Afterwards I visited the Social Security office and a few days later the Motor Vehicle office. It was a big, freeing, empowering step – even though it did cost me my job.

It’s only been a year since that day. Sometimes it seems a lot longer. At other moments the time seems to have flown by. I struggle with patience. I feel that I missed out on so much of my life – not discounting the experiences I had, but nonetheless regretting the experiences I was unable to have because I wasn’t connected with myself. I want to make up for lost time, but I can’t rebuild a life overnight. Nor can I ever really recapture that lost time. I appreciate the friends who, when I’m once again frustrated that I’m not where I want to be, gently remind me:  “Look how far you’ve come.”

Contentment is a Slippery Beast

Contentment is a slippery beast.

Just when you think you’ve found it, it wiggles out of your grasp and slips away.

Actually, it slips out of my hands because I become distracted by something else, something that I don’t have. Envy shows up and, just like that, contentment has slipped away.

For example, I hear a lot of people around my office talking about their vacation plans. Or I go online and I see all my friends posting pictures from their amazing vacations in Europe, or on the beach, or all sorts of other places. And I feel envious, because I’m stuck here in my scorching desert, unable to go anywhere. I compare my life to theirs and feel that I come up with the short end of the stick (and where did that phrase originate, anyway?)

“Enjoy a staycation,” people tell me. Yeah. A staycation sounds really glamorous compared to going to Italy, or New Zealand, or even San Diego. A staycation for me would mean sitting around the house all day wishing I were doing something other than sitting around the house all day. One day might be relaxing. Much more than that would quickly become miserable. A staycation is a reminder that I do not have the privilege of travel due to my economic circumstances. It is also a reminder that I do not feel comfortable, or safe, traveling a lot of places, even within my own country, due to my identity. In the year and a half that I’ve been out, the farthest I’ve traveled is to a city on the other side of my state, about a 4 hour drive away.

The problem, though, is not with my friends enjoying their vacation. I don’t want to begrudge them their enjoyment. The problem is with me and how I choose to compare my life to theirs. The problem is envy.

I can choose to allow envy room to nest in my mind, or I can receive it and usher it quickly on its way. When I do the former, my world turns a shade (or two, or three, or sometimes ten) darker. I fail to notice the hundred reasons I have to be grateful. My zest for life wanes. That’s not how I want to live.

I am trying to develop the discipline of gratefulness as a defense against envy. I don’t always succeed, and even when I’m on my game, it doesn’t mean that envy doesn’t raise its head. It does help my response to it when it does though. Gratefulness reminds me to focus on all the positive things in my life. Even amidst all the pain, sorrow and grief in this world – in my own life – I have much to be grateful for. Even as some dear friends move away, I can be grateful for those that remain close, for the fact that those who are departing have enriched my life AND that we can remain close despite the distance. I may not be able to travel anywhere exotic, but I can sit on my patio in the evening and look at the beautiful sunset on the mountains. I can enjoy a good conversation with a friend over dinner or a drink. I can dance.

I don’t want to allow envy to steal the joy I can experience in my life. My world may be pretty small right now, but it is rich with the things that matter. I just need to remember that daily, and especially at those moments when envy comes at me. Contentment doesn’t have to be elusive. It does require me to reorient my thinking. I’m making progress. And when contentment does slip away for a time, I’m thankful for those friends who help me refocus and find it again.