Families

 My son got me watching POSE.  During one of the episodes they featured a quote.  And it meant something to me, and I wanted to share. 

“Blood does not family make.  Those are relatives.  

Family are those with whom you share your good,bad, and ugly,

and still love one another in the end.  Those are the ones you select.”

Hector Xtravaganza 1965-2018

Thank You

I will never know your name or your whereabouts at this very moment.

I may not even know your pronouns or the name of lipstick you were wearing when I first saw you.

But I know the impact you left on me that one fleeting moment I met your eyes and smiled at you.

I may not know what you were doing at that time and place for which you changed my outlook on life,

and probably will not know what you went through to stand as you were when I saw you,

But I know the bold attitude you had standing there in the corner of that restaurant. 

and I know that your tanned complexion popped against the lavender for which you painted on your lips.

I will remember that white and pink basketball t-shirt you were wearing,

and the cutoff jean shorts you wore with your unshaven legs bared for the world to witness.

I will remember your short quaffed hair, a warm brown shade that reminds me of a rich piece of chocolate.

The slight stubble of your chin that you embraced,

 the smoky eye that was blended to perfection up to your full dark brows,

And also the tall heels you strutted in when you finally walked outside into the cool summer breeze.

I will never forgive myself for not butting in when I heard hateful words thrown in your direction.

and I will never understand why I didn't do something when I heard laughter from the people I was with at the time.

I just want you to know, stranger.

That you made me want to live boldly, unapologetically, and fiercely. 

You made me use my voice for others in our community later on in life.

And you made me realize that identity is individual, and normalcy is overrated.

So thank you. 

Thank you for being yourself.

Thank you for showing me authenticity.

And thank you for making me realize I do not need to hide my queerness from the world.

You've made me strong, 

You've made me proud,

You've made me unapologetic.

You helped me realize I was not normal. 

And that I didn't need to be.

Subarus and Stereotypes

 In honor of me starting a new job working for a local car dealership, I figured it would be great to discuss something a little out of the norm this week: the Subaru. Subarus have quite a stereotype as being lesbian cars-- one of my coworkers even calls them "lesbian battle wagons." But why is this stereotype around? And are these cars as queer as they're made out to be?

In short, yes. 

In the 90's, Subaru released an ad (shown above) which was one of their first instances of marketing towards the LGBTQ+ community. As you can see, one of the cars has a rainbow flag bumper sticker. The other's license plate says "XENA LVR." Xena: Warrior Princess was a popular show that had a lot of lesbian subtext, very similar to Netflix's reboot of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (don't judge-- you know you watched that kiss in season 5 too). So, each of these cars had references to queer culture which was a huge deal in the 90's.

Future ad campaigns included slogans like "At least we have our priorities straight," "It's not a choice, it's just how we're built," and of course, who can forget this gem of an ad?

Sure that ad might seem a bit like pandering. But Subaru didn't just put their money into gay ads. They also donated millions of dollars to HIV/AIDS research and several other causes. In a world where the LGBTQ+ community was still very, very far outside of the norm, Subaru's actions were bold and impressive. These "lesbian battle wagons" live up to their stereotypes thanks to decades of marketing and smart money moves from Subaru. 

Technically, A Poem About Aristotle And Dante Discover The Secrets Of The Universe

You

The cold wind is sharp on my face,

I'm standing there,

sucking on a halls breezer

trying to rid the shots of vodka I agreed to take last night.

After all,

I am just human.

I must remind myself I am just human

by tearing my liver and life apart.

I could beg for the wind again if it meant it'd erase the fact that this vomit is the most warmth I've received in a moment.

I am panting like a dog, nails digging into dirt and grass like the earth would come up my arms and save me.

Is it not human to be this weak?

Knees aching from the unforgiving ground, I can see the stupid fucking strawberry-flavored f*ck floating in the stream of my own demise.

Tears mixed with bile and vodka

how sad the earth must be to feel men fall like this!

Tell me, friend, is it not like a man to be this weak?

To sob and want to be desired?

To want to be removed from the dirt and held into health?

feminine fear (poem)

femininity for me

translates into fear

i only feel like a “woman”

when walking home

in darkness

keys clutched between fingers

arms tight to my chest

no one allowed to see the shadow of my breast

femininity

is too-tight dresses

squished around a body

made like barbie

but desperate to be something

more akin to ken

femininity is a costume

forced onto me

my body wishing for something easier to perform.

Those who came before

Pain

Every day I'm reminded of the dull pain of life. 

The knives that sink into my skin of words remembered.

The headaches from the pressure of conformation.

The razor edge I walk when I talk with strangers. 

But then they pulled the knives from my skin,

lifted me from their view,

and gave me confidence. 

They gave me the hope and steel to ignore,

the peace and mindfulness to be me,

and the footing to speak my mind. 

I thank these unseen Saviors, 

those that came before me and fought those who would harm me.

I can only hope,

I can do this for another. 

 Don't judge a book by its cover.

At first glance, you would see me as a white female with a decent job and someone who has their act together.  And to some individuals they would take that as "white privilege".  But honestly, that would be the furthest thing from the truth.

The truth is my skin might appear to be white, with a little tan.  My blood is mixed with several nationalities.  I'm Mexican, Indian, German, Norwegian and Sweden.  Not only that, it has taken me 40 years to get where I am at, and every day is still a struggle. 

I am a recovering meth addict who liked to drink.  I have been to jail several times and have 3 DUI's on my record.  I have 2 kids, one son who is about to graduate this year and one daughter who is in the second grade, with two different fathers.  My daughter doesn't even know her father.  He left us when I was pregnant.  He has never bothered to meet her and has never paid child support for her.

When my daughter was born, I had her taken away and put in foster care until I got my shit together.  And the dad to my son had restrictions put on me until I got my shit together.  I had lost everything including the trust and respect from my family.  

From that moment on, I have done nothing but work on myself and myself worth.  I worked hard go get my daughter back, which I did in record time (6 months).  Rehab was the best thing for me.  I had to work every day to earn back my families trust and respect.  I went back to college and got my Associates in pre-law.  Took a year off then enrolled at the U of W to work on my Bachelor degree in Criminal Justice. 

It has taken me 8 years to get where I am at today.  Every year got a little easier, but at first the criminal brain was there for a long time.  The urge to use and forget everything and everyone would have been so easy.  The love for my kids and family eventually took over, now there is nothing I wouldn't do for them.  

Addiction is not a choice, it is a disease.  A disease of the mind that doesn't just go away.  I am constantly keeping myself in check because if I don't I will fall and fall hard.  

So, when someone thinks I have it all, they have no idea that I had nothing and had to work for everything.  This was only possible with the help of my family and fully believing in my higher power to help me.

So, when I am judged at first glance I get a little defensive.  That is why, I will never judge a book by its cover.  I don't know their story.