Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are

I am 40 years old.

I am married (for almost two years) to a lovely woman who I’ve had a crush on for almost half of my life.

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I live in a world where my sexual orientation is a boring statement of fact that isn’t really a thing…or at least I think it is, until someone makes it otherwise.

I started coming out gradually, at 19, first between wrenching sobs to my freshman-year RA, saying that I might be gay. She was the first I told about these swirling, confusing feelings that were only amplified by the roommate (let’s call her N) I had fallen for. I stared at a bottle of Advil, wondering if taking the entire bottle would be enough to put me out of my misery, and I found the strength to put it down, knock on Jen’s door, and just…come out with it.

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Time, Time, Time, See What’s Become of Me

So I’ve blogged two days in a row (!) and it feels weird not to do it today. But I have to get ready for work 15 minutes ago, so nothing substantial is coming out of this brain. And I really thought I’d catch up on a lot of this while my wife was out of town, but I feel like I had even less free time than when she’s here! Hopefully in the next few weeks, here are the things you have to look forward to.

  • More in my new favorite blog installment, Monica’s Unnecessarily Long and Detailed TV Recaps (just for Wynonna Earp and not Orphan Black, evil friend who keeps telling me to write about OB)
  • More updates on the #TravelingFandras movement (and when I buy my new shirt, because that’s definitely gonna have to happen. Maybe I can crowd-fund it!)
  • My inability to choose normal blog titles (but Susanna Hoffs, am I right?)
  • Finally finishing blogging about my wedding in 2015 (sorry, honey)

  • Finally writing about ClexaCon and this amazing, epic photo op

  • Also this one

  • And this one, which is in some ways the most important one

Hope to see you soon, friends.

Buffy Turns 20

So, I was at ClexaCon over the weekend and got back late Tuesday night. That meant that I went from working a 3-11pm ET shift to partying until 2am PT to waking up at 5:30am ET on Wednesday. I was basically a zombie and have been chasing sleep the entire week. I was too drained to write anything on the actual 20th anniversary — yesterday — but I figured, hey, I’m only a day late, right?

Sadly, my journey with Buffy did not begin 20 years ago yesterday. I was a latecomer to this show despite my brother’s attempts to get me to watch it. One night in my old apartment — which was either super cold or super hot, depending on the season — I was flipping through the channels and stumbled upon a rerun —¬†Out of Mind, Out of Sight. Coincidentally, this was the only episode I had any interest in watching, as it starred my number-one celebrity crush at the time (and now, really), Clea Duvall. I watched it, probably huddled under a blanket 0r wearing a bikini, and thought, “Okay, that’ll do it.”

Fast-forward five years or so, and my friend M was going through a really bad breakup. Her longtime girlfriend had cheated on her with someone she met on the internet, and M had picked up and moved from their life together in less than two days. A mutual guy friend, D, suggested that we start watching Buffy together as a thing to do after work. They were both single, and I was in a long-distance relationship, so it worked for us. In the beginning, he dictated which episodes we watched and didn’t, as he was the expert and could tell us which ones to skip.

Let’s pause a moment to eye roll at the patriarchy. Fuck you, The Patriarchy!

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Queer Fangirl AF

Today is National Coming Out Day. I officially came out years ago, and (let’s be honest) unofficially way before that with all of that flannel I wore. Anyone who has ever read this blog knows that it was a rough process for me. Growing up, I felt alone. I thought that no one could possibly feel the way I felt, and I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it. It led to some dark times for me, but I eventually accepted and embraced who I am. I wish I could go back in time and tell this girl that it does, in fact, get better.

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One of the roughest things was that I felt like I had no one to talk to about it. I almost kind of did once, that time my “friends” started a rumor about me that I was gay. I introduced myself to a friend of a friend with “I’m Monica, and my friends think I’m gay.” Her response? “I’m Beth, and I don’t care.” (Still friends, by the way.) But after that rumor was shut down, I shut down about it. No sense drawing attention to the thing that almost ruined (and ended) my life.

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One of the great things about the internet — and, yes, there are many awful things, but so, so many great ones — is that, no matter what community you want to be a part of, you’ll find it. And with lesbian spaces disappearing, that’s more important than ever.

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