Ding dong, DOMA is dead!

Yesterday, I woke up to rain. Sunny rain.  I groaned. Walking Kevin in the rain is always a bit complicated as anyone living in an apartment with a pup knows. One arm for leash.  One arm for umbrella. Do you compromise leash holding or umbrella holding for poo pick up? So many complications. So little time (I like to sleep in til the last minute.)

So, girded with a huge golf umbrella, my poo bag purse with Kevin's polka dot leash in hand, we headed out into the sun shower. As we turned the corner of our apartment building, I looked up and saw the most beautiful rainbow I had ever seen, full bow in view. Kevin and I stopped to stare at it in wonder (well, I stopped in wonder.  He was peeing on a lamppost.)

Kevin did his business, I cleaned up without having to compromise either umbrella or leash as the rain had ceased by the time he boom boomed, and we headed to the house to complete our usual morning ritual.  I watched him eat his breakfast, cause he won't eat if I don't watch.  I stepped into the bathroom to shower while Kevin hopped in and laid down in the shower in protest. You know.  Normal dog/human stuff.

I got to work and hopped online. I changed my profile picture to show my support of LGBT rights.

15 minutes later, a news story popped onto my feed saying that DOMA had been declared unconstitutional. I cried. At my desk. And rejoiced in the fact that the people I love can love whoever they want in whatever capacity they want without federal intervention. A decision had been made.  A decision that made me believe in my country again. A decision that made me think to myself, "Someday, someone is going to ask you where you were when you heard the news. And you'll have to say you were at work and facebooking when you should have been working."

I am not a lesbian, as much as my mom tells me it's ok if I am. I don't even know if I ever want to get married.  But the fact of the matter is that no one should be able to tell me who I can and can't love.  Who I can and can't tie myself to.  Who I can and can't have at my death bed. Who can and can't benefit from my life insurance/health insurance/tax bracket.  I'm not angry at the people who wanted to restrict the rights of my friends and family.  I'm just sad that it was ever a question.

I didn't realize how symbolic that rainbow would be when I saw it through bleary eyes on a Wednesday morning. The full arc reaching across the sky will come to mind any time I think about the day that DOMA was overturned. And if any of my gay or straight friends need a wedding planner/singer/officiant, you know how to get a hold of me.

Failure

I'm laying on the pull out couch in my grandmother's home. Crying. Not sure why. Maybe it's the 4 days of driving. Maybe it's the stress of a wedding. The stress of family. Hormones. Going into my grandfather's shed and being reminded that he's not here.  Wondering what he would think about me. I don't know. But it's been a weird day, and I'm not sure what to do.

I keep hearing negativity. About how fat people are. About how eating is bad. About what's wrong with this person, with that person. With me. And today, I had to walk away. The noise was too much. And I kept seeing this person, who is alone and reminded of it in subtle ways. A person who is overweight, and is reminded in subtle ways. A person who isn't enough, and is reminded in subtle ways. And this boiling anger just sat there, in my stomach, until it lashed out. I always feel like I'm the one to blame. That if I was less this and more that, then all would be well.

"I just want to go home." I texted that to my business partner and friend.  But where is that?   What's there for me? My dog. My apartment. My stuff. My friends. A job I like sometimes. But what am I doing other than being fat and emotional and annoying? Who am I effecting? I'm constantly reminded of this person that I used to be. Am I ever gonna be that person again? Am I ever going to evolve? Am I ever going to be enough, for anyone? Am I ever going to stop crying?

Part of me wants to go out to my grandpa's shed and just sit.  That may be the second shot of tequila talking.

I suck a lot.

Today was a rather slow day at work.  I've been on this kick of reading inspirational articles and trying to learn to love myself a little more, and today was full of this kind of study, as no one was in and no one was calling. After lunch, I decided to water the plants in our front lobby.  While I was filling up the jug in the bathroom, I really looked at myself in the ugly gold plated mirror above the sink. Really looked, not just the usual perfunctory glance. I didn't avoid the hair I neglected to blow dry as it was pouring down rain and what's the point.  I didn't avoid the rushed make-up job based on being flooded in my apartment all morning, only to be called in to my job at a GOLF COURSE IN A TROPICAL STORM. I turned to the side, looking at the way my dress hugs my stomach which has always and will always be the bane of my existence.

I stared at myself and let out a huge sigh. That sigh released the tension that is perpetually in my midriff area, as I am constantly sucking in.  It doesn't matter what I'm wearing or where I am. In my pjs. In a dress for work. I'm perpetually trying to make myself look like something I'm not. When I let out that sigh, I let out the somewhat plus sized but not girl that just wants to be on the other side of skinny. I let out the need to be perfect, to be slim, to be something that I'm not. I let out the girl who would gag on a bite of food because she needed control of anything in her life at that moment, and food consumption was all she had.  I let out the girl who would pretend on the outside that she had it all together, but that on the inside was being crippled with fear.

I know these blogs lately have been kind of depressing. Life up til now has been kind of depressing.  But I'm finding more and more ways to be happy, and I can't help but share that with the world. I read an article yesterday that stated that women need to stop fat shaming themselves, and I finally get it. I look at pictures of myself from a recent dinner with distant relatives, and I realize that even though the woman in the pictures is bigger than her body is supposed to be according to science, she still has perfect blood pressure. She's O negative.  She's a universal donor who can save the life of anyone who needs blood or platelets through her donations.  She's got pretty eyes. She smiles a lot. She ignores injuries so she can get a bear hug from a 4 year old and wears Batman shirts whenever she sees him cause it makes him smile. She loves books. She loves dogs.  She loves her family.  And none of that is dependent on what the scale says.