Jan
03
My morning’s email brought with it a bunch of digital photos of me and my family over the holidays, and my reaction to them was not positive.
What I saw were the kind of photos where, years later, a next generation asks, “Who’s that weird-looking guy in this picture?” and the answer is something like, “Oh, he was some crazy uncle… I heard he was a nice enough guy, but obviously quite strange…”
Looking at the photo was troubling not because of the judgment of others, but because of my own verdict, to wit: one strange bird among several normal-looking people.
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May
29
For a long time, just being the woman that I am was something, was enough.
I did everything that needed to be done as a man, and when it was time for fun, there was Janie, the party girl.
But, now I am realizing that Janie has to pull her own weight or risk becoming a fantasy, a pretense.
I cringe a little as I say this, but I need to undertake work, drudgery and conflict, commitment and responsibility, problems and challenges, routine and expectation – all as a woman if Janie is going to continue to feel real to me.
Funny, though, because part of the inner appeal of my femininity has been how light and wondrous it has felt. And, now I seem intent on weighing it down with reality.
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