Is there a line?

I submit this for consideration…

 

Perhaps you’re strongly against a transgender person taking hormones or having surgery to alter their body to be more in alignment with who they know themselves to be. Let’s examine that a bit deeper.

 

Maybe in general, you’re not on board with a person having cosmetic surgery to “tweak” their face or body shape. .. but if you are, how is it different? Let’s think some more.

 

A common response is that someone altering their body goes against how God made them, that they were made perfectly the way they are… ok… now I ask you to consider:

 

What do you think about babies born with cleft palates or heart defects? Or improving your vision with LASIK or cataract surgery? Or perhaps your pancreas doesn’t work properly, or you’ve had to have your gallbladder or appendix removed? If someone is diabetic, they may take medication to put their bodies more into balance. If they have high blood pressure, they take medication to keep it under control.  Perhaps one you love had a vasectomy or hysterectomy?

 

Small things fit here, too: Do you wear makeup, which covers your face/accentuates your more desirable features? Color your hair? Wear a wig/toupee? Wear a girdle?

 

If you believe some of these are ok, and others, aren’t, please consider… why? All are altering our bodies and/or our appearances to help ourselves feel better or improve our quality of life. Isn’t that what this is – a human being choosing how their body looks to improve their self-image and quality of life? If we accept some of these, why not all? I respectfully hope this provides some food for thought.

#LGBTQIA #Transgender #LoveIsLove

This is how I imagine it went down…

Storm: BOOM BOOM BOOM
Me: “mmmph. Quiet. Vacation. Sleep”
Storm: BOOM BOOMBEDEE BOOM-A-BOOM!
Me:”For cryin out loud, shush! I refuse to get up!”
Storm: BOOM BOOM A BOOM DE BOOM A BOOM BOOOM!
Me: FINE I’m awake!
Storm: My work here is done. … (fizzles away)
Me: I am SO blogging this.

Who Decides if it Hurts?

Who determines if something is harmful – the person speaking, or the person receiving the information?

If someone flings a slur at another person, does it matter if they intended it to hurt or as a joke, if the person hearing the terms is genuinely distraught/threatened as a result?

I initially intended this to be in support of those who are gender expansive, or talk about race, but dang if it doesn’t just apply to all of us, all the time.

My Dad shared this old adage:

What an amazing world we would live in if everyone measured their words by these 5 checks.

I believe we can, even if just one baby-step a day.   Let’s try it for a week and report back, what say ye?

 

Starting a Convo About Being Trans and Christian

I know this amazing kid “W” who is coming out as trans. W is 16.

W is one of the 1.5-3% of US teens who identify as something other than the Male-Female binary system we’ve been raised with. Numbers are guesstimates because there are no formal nationwide studies yet.  “Gender Expansive” includes:

1) transgender – born one gender but identify as the other

2) gender fluid – identify some days as male, some as female

3) agender – identify as neither male nor female

Note – this is TOTALLY different from “what is your sexual attraction – are you gay, bi, straight, etc.”. That is who you are attracted to – gender identity is who you ARE.
Some of you may be revolted by this idea. “You are what God made you and that’s that.” Gender-expansive people of faith may answer “Exactly. God made me this way.” Battles, criticism, etc. may ensue.
Here’s what I ask – just love them.

W is a great person – has always had a giving heart, nurtures others in their challenges, has gifts a’plenty, and desires to serve God throughout their lifetime.

“I could never call her a he” … “I don’t know what to say to her.. him..”. I’ve found being neutral has helped me with this challenge. I often just use the name, “the Kiddo”, or sometimes “they/them/their” – as in “someone is coming to dinner” “Really, what do they like?” (no gender! no problem!)
Treat W like you would any teenager. Engage in conversation – how is/was school, what are your plans for summer, doing anything cool, tell me about your trip, have you read any good books lately, are you still into art, etc.   Just like I don’t sit down and talk with people about “how is it being a (gender) today?” it doesn’t have to be a topic of conversation.

“But I believe they’re doing wrong, and you’re doing wrong for encouraging it.” Well… this is where we have room for discussion. I look to the Bible for guidance – the Big J himself, when he spoke to the Samaritan woman at the well or the woman about to be stoned for committing adultery. I want to model how Jesus talked to them. He was calm, tender, and gentle. No brimstone, no browbeating “you VERY NAUGHTY GIRL YOU WILL BURN UNLESS YOU TURN!”.. no threats – just healing, and a call to eternal life.
The name for this is grace. Grace is extended to each and every human being, no matter our sins, over and over throughout our lives. Every one of us slips away and the shepherd brings us back to the fold.
Whether that looks like W ultimately identifies as female or male or whatever is between W and God. I do not know what His plans are for W or what W will go through on that journey. As a confidant – my role is to love, teach, guide, and encourage the best I can (and pray a lot!).
I’d also like to make an invitation – if someone you are close to is going through a similar thing, and you’d just like to talk with someone in a supportive environment? Let’s talk. We can support each other. And don’t worry – if you’re not a church person, that’s cool – I won’t preach at you. This is just me talking about my own experience and how I’ve found peace with it all. Your path my vary 🙂
In short – Always remember these timeless words of Abraham Lincoln:

#trans #christian #grace

#972: The Return of the Draining Boyfriend Of Yore

I adore Captain Awkward
“Don’t pour your beautiful selves into other people’s empty spaces. There is nothing there for you.”

CaptainAwkward.com

Hi, Captain!

I’ve got a nice, awkward, many-years-running situation for you!

So when I was in my early 20s, I dated someone I shouldn’t have dated, whom I’ll call Dean. I dated him for five years. At the time, I was so isolated where I lived that it became a kind of “well, it’s better than not dating anyone” thing, until it became a love thing, and then an inertia thing. He wasn’t right for me in so many ways, but he wasn’t exactly bad to me either…and I was 23 and had very little relationship experience. Partway through the relationship I relocated to a major city for grad school, and took the opportunity to break up with him. However, after a few months and some insistance from him that surprised me (because he’d always been so passive), he moved to be with me again. We lived together until I…

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5 Words

There are some words that lift you up and send your spirit soaring. Others make your heart stop and everything else around you disappears.

My one and only child is amazing.  For 16 years I’ve been intensely proud to be called “Mom”.  There’s never any trouble getting them to do their homework, doesn’t smoke or drink, keeps their word, volunteers for service projects, is thoughtful, considerate, and so on.  They have so many gifts – art, music, writing, creativity, courage – that my hopes for the future have been bright.

Things began to change when they began high school.  I knew that transition would be hard. I know The Kid’s propensity for perfectionism and the extra pressures at the high school level would be a tough combo … but they’d already been through so much.  A rocky marriage, divorce, my remarriage, adapting to having a step-father, and then the birth father’s death – all that was before they even turned 9.  With prayer, counseling and hard work, we both came through – a bit dented and scarred, but still kicking and hopeful for the future.   Even still, the first couple of months of freshman year seemed to be weighing on them extraordinarily.

One night in November 2015, my generally optimistic and fun-loving kid looked at me with tears in their eyes and said “I can’t do it anymore.”  “I’m thinking about suicide a lot. I even have a plan for how I want to do it.”

We’re lucky.  I’m grateful The Kid spoke up and trusted me enough to get the desperately needed help.  Resources were immediately available.  I’m incredibly grateful for the support of family and friends.  I’m unendingly thankful for God’s grace and love, which steadfastly remains.  After weeks – now months – of therapy and care, those eyes to show flickers of hope and joy again.

As the parent, it’s an ongoing concern. Anyone over 18 knows that life continually tosses challenges your way.  I have to watch myself and not let worry take over, but it’s always there. They made it through today, but what about tonight.. what about tomorrow?  They seemed upset earlier and now they aren’t answering their phone, has something happened?  Are they showing any signs of relapse? Am I missing any signals?  Are we giving them the ongoing support that they need? Are they learning the coping skills they will need for the last 2 years of high school and beyond?   And .. will they ever be able to see themselves as I see them – full of talent, promise, and love.  Because you, my child, are amazing.

A few months ago, there was another deep bout of depression as some big questions have arisen (ergo the awkward attempt above to keep things gender-neutral).   Those topics are for a later time, but life is continuing.  Each day is a victory.

Truly every day is precious.

Keep hanging in there, baby.  It gets better.

Good Enough

Thank you, Gina.

Gina Deaton

I graduated from Mason High School, the largest high school in the state of Ohio, this past spring.

Growing up in the Mason school district, I developed severe anxiety.

This anxiety all stemmed from the idea that I was not good enough.

I attended one of the largest school districts, and the largest high school, in the state of Ohio. This made everything much harder, whether it was competing for class rank or a spot on a sports team. There was so much competition; there was always someone smarter than me, and someone more talented than me. Always. I felt increasingly average, like I had little talent, tiny in the shadow of my peers.

I played softball all growing up, and I was cut from the school softball team. Twice. I got good grades all growing up, and graduated high school proudly with a 4.5 GPA that I had worked my…

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Humans and Hoomanity

One of my quests for the year (doesn’t that sound way more interesting than “goals”?) is to get deeper.  I seem to live like a pendulum – I spent too many years buried deep in my own head – then years at the other extreme.  I’d like to live in the middle. I don’t want too much more of life to pass me by without taking more time to sit, meditate, explore.  I used to blog all the time.  So today I’m dusting off my brain and will freestyle for a bit. Today’s topic:  Hoomanity

When I look around the world, I see us (humans, that is) becoming less and less tolerant.  Tolerant of anything, but especially each other.  You see it reflected in movies, television, news – in schools, at work, any where there are 2 or more people gathered together – and most definitely on the internet. It’s an interesting (and depressing) phenomena.  I used to blame the judging reality tv shows for encouraging us to pick each other apart – but it started LONG before that.  The stank of snark is everywhere.  So it’s really special when you find a group of people that accept you and make you feel “normal”, like a little bee girl.

There is hope!  There are communities of people who are earnestly striving to be a positive thing in the world – and those groups are growing rapidly.  The world needs more of that, dontcha think?  So here’s a few shout-outs…

1. “Nerdfighteria” (followers of Hank Green and John Green, the vlogbrothers, and their growing circle of thoughtful, entertaining and educational vloggers.  In addition to their own channels and vlogbrothers, you can find them on YouTube on SciShow CrashCourse, and loads of others.  Their videos are used in schools and I just love their approach to sharing and expanding knowledge and awareness.  Their annual Project for Awesome campaign last year raised over $1.5 million.  MILLION.  Most of that is money raised by nerds, geeks, and folks who just want to chip in and help others in need. It’s amazing.  DFTBA (don’t forget to be awesome!)
2. Jenny Lawson – a.k.a. The Bloggess.  She’s written 2 books – both funny and painfully honest about being socially awkward, living with mental and physical health issues, but determined to survive – even thrive.  Www.thebloggess.com is a quirky and wondrous place.  Her openness inspires others to freely discuss topics that used to be hidden in the dark.  The comment sections often bring me to tears of empathy and joy.  There was Beyonce the Giant Metal Chicken – an epic husband-wife battle of wills and probably the thing that made me fall in love with her!  Three days ago, Jenny introduced “Booksgiving“.  It started small – she wanted to give away some copies of her book.  Other people joined in “how can we help?”  In 3 short days, over 1600 posts of people asking for a little help – not much, just a book to help them get through a bad day – and the amazing responses.  That can make a world of difference to someone hurting – just feeling heard and acknowledged.  The tidal-wave of support from one human to another is so beautiful.  The message is clear “You’re hurting? I’ve been there. Let me help you through and then you can help someone else later.”  If you’re ever sad or lonely, visit TheBloggess.
3. Geek and Sundry’s “Team Hooman”.  You may be familiar with Felicia Day (Buffy, Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog, Eureka, Supernatural, etc.).  She started Geek and Sundry  with YouTube shows like The Guild, The Flog, Co-Optitude, and TableTop (with Wil Wheaton). Last March, G&S started a channel on Twitch tv – normally a place showing people playing video games and people telling them how much they suck.  G&S Twitch has raised that bar SO much higher.  In just a year they have grown to thousands of viewers – even setting a record Thursday for 20,000 tuned in to watch Critical Role, their live D&D show.  As a community, they achieve powerful things.  When a call goes out for help, the outpouring of response is truly touching. Nicknamed “Hoomans”, fans/followers of G&S have donated dollars and hours to charities or just helping out each other.  The site encourages respect and acceptance, regardless of some of the labels that divide us so rigidly elsewhere (race, religion, sexual identity, and so on).  So much so, that the chat room is usually active 24×7 even if there isn’t a broadcast taking place, and “meet-ups” take place sporadically around the world.  It’s give and take, not take and take some more.  I love it.

I’ve been surfing the web since the mid-1980s (remember CompuServe? Anyone? *crickets) and these are some of the most positive, inspiring and FUN places to hang out.  I think what makes them special is how interactive they are – between the “host” and the viewer and across all the layers in between.

Is there a community that makes you feel like you’re part of something special?    On or off the web?  Let’s help them boost the signal.

 

 

You can’t go home again…

… but I did it anyway 🙂  Nearly 10 years ago I went back to my childhood home (the one I wrote about last time) and took some pictures.  The first big change – the road was paved.  It also was nearly double its original length, extending way on up the hollow and there were a dozen or so “new” houses up there.  The owners of our old house had fun redoing the landscaping and painting.  Now it’s gray – I remember it being white.  The front steps used to make an “L” and led down into the driveway about halfway between the garage door and the bottom of the drive way.  It looks quite nice.  The neighbor’s house looks entirely different due to the addition on our side.  I wish I’d pivoted to my right and taken a picture of “my hill”.  Maybe next trip 🙂

Our house on the left

The hill behind the house was a relatively steep grade and there was nothing but woods between the edge of our backyard and the crest of the hill.  There was a well-worn path between my house and the neighbors that led all the way up.  All the way up to… (cue scary music)… the Water Tower.  And next to that was … (even louder scary music)… a cemetery.  It was a creepy place to be at dusk. Valleys get foggy quickly in the hills and as soon as the sun slides behind the mountain, it gets really dark, really fast.  Me and a couple of the neighbor kids would dare each other to stay out as late as we could, but we nearly always scampered back down the hill to safety pretty quickly.

By the way – it wasn’t the graveyard that scared us. It was the idea of the kind of people that might hang out in a graveyard at night that was threatening.  Come to think of it, the only people that seemed to do that was… us.  LOL.  Hadn’t thought of it that way before.

You know, when you’re a kid and you inevitably play Cowboys and Indians?  Well… I just played “Indian”.  We have Native American blood in our family tree, and I take great pride in this – and as a kid? Forgettaaboutit.  Any excuse for a costume! I had a turquoise shirt trimmed in white leather fringe, beadwork on the chest, and a matching skirt.  I LOVED that outfit.  I also loved to practice walking barefoot in the hills as quietly as possible. To make it all the way to the top of the hill without snapping a twig, or making tree leaves rustle – that was my goal.  Downhill, though – all bets were off.  Speed was the thing on the way down – especially to see if I could do it without falling – something my less-than-graceful body wasn’t particularly good at.  I don’t remember any major wipeouts, but … that to be fair – that could be due to concussion or something  🙂

It’s a shame we grow up and busy ourselves to the point where we don’t take time to walk barefoot in the soil and feel the breezes on our face.

If you’ll excuse me, I need to step outside for a few.  But first I have to take my shoes and socks off…

Almost Heaven

I’ve been grappling with what I want this blog to be… and decided the main thing I want it to be is a place to jot down my memories of growing up.  I’m sure that will change with the post after this one, but for now… let’s climb into the wayback machine for a few minutes and travel to a magical land, far away…

I loved the view out my window.  I was 9. We’d moved to a small unincorporated town outside of the state capital of West Virginia.  THE Charleston, if you ask a West Virginian… that one in South Carolina is “the Other Charleston” 🙂  Our house was on a small street – at the time there were only about 7 houses on it. The street was partly paved and gave way to gravel as it meandered up the valley between the hills.  Some would call it a “holler” – but I don’t recall anyone that lived there actually calling it that.  The houses were brick or cinder block, built in the 50’s I would guess… nice houses, definitely not the dilapidated shack that comes to mind when you think of a West Virginia holler.  It was the BEST place in the world, as far as I was concerned.  I’d get home from school, finish up my homework and piano practice (if I couldn’t wiggle my way out of it) and then head outside with my dog in search of adventure.

My favorite spot was on this big ole tree.  I say “on” because the tree had long decided that all the other trees were growing vertically, so it was gonna be a rebel and grow out from the hill horizontally.  It was perfect.  I’d climb on and then shimmy my way out til I was sitting several feet off the ground, my back leaned against a big branch. From there I could just watch the world. Sometimes I’d read or write, but mostly I would just sit and think about stuff.  I was close enough to hear my Mom call when it was time to come in … but I can’t say I was ever in a big hurry to go back inside.

That period from dusk to night was simply beautiful. As soon as the sun went behind the hills, the air began to cool.  Crickets chirped their songs, frogs croaked – I felt safe and snug, protected by the hills.  I’d open my bedroom window as far as it would go and climb up, sitting straddled over the window sill, one leg dangling out the window. From there, as the night grew darker, the outline of the hill in front of our house began to fade – and the fireflies began to flash. Imagine the largest Christmas tree in the whole world, decorated in tiny, white twinkling lights – so big that it nearly completely filled your field of vision.  THAT was my view from my window, and I loved it dearly. I’d sit there, drinking it all in, amazed by the beautiful, all-natural light show.  I felt like it was just for me.

A few years later, Dad took another position in a town 50 miles away.  We moved from a rural-type area into a more typical suburbia.  Out my bedroom window, all I could see was the house next door. Then after college, I moved to the “flatlands” of the Midwest.  Now, the evening air brings sounds of kids playing in the neighborhood, or of cars zipping up and down the main street nearby.  I’m able to give my daughter a great life here, but sometimes I wish I could give her the experiences that I had… perched in big ole tree, immersed in nature … or sitting for hours in my bedroom window, drinking in the beauty of nighttime in the hills.

Almost Heaven, West Virginia. You’ll always be “home” to me.

Me and my little bro 1973

Clothes in the ’70s, baby – was there anything ever groovier?