The poetry collection Monsters in the Closet came out last week and I just purchased it. This gets to me so, so, so much:

Dedication For every queer soul who has ever been called unnatural, unholy, or monstrous— for those who have been told their love is a sin, their desire a curse, their very existence something to be hidden in the dark. This is for you. For the ones who have whispered their truths into the night, who have carved their names into history with trembling hands, who have refused to be erased. You are not a mistake. You are not a villain in someone else’s fable.

You are not the thing to be feared in the shadows. You are the storm, the fire, the myth that will never die. You are beauty wrapped in defiance, love woven from survival. And if they call us monsters—then let us be monstrous. Together, we reclaim our darkness. Together, we shine.

 

Oh my gosh, is this one sick puppy of a book! It goes from being amusing and relatable to being a tale of twisted revenge that reveals more about Ruby than the people who hurt her. Fast-moving and full of oomph and strong dialogue, this novel nevertheless ended up leaving a bad taste in my mouth. 😳🤦‍♀️ May you never cross a Ruby in your own life!

What does it mean? I ask myself a lot lately. Am I returning to feeling a lot of self-hating, internalized homophobia because of Trump and his ilk or is this how I always am, even when I do not know I am.

Two years ago and some change, I discovered I had the superpower to not get crushes on people anymore and I’ve been using that to push through all sorts of things. 

Of course it helped a lot that after years of pining (and inappropriately at that!) I learned that the person I secretly liked for years was the exact embodiment of everything I don't believe in.

Her anti-gayness didn't bother so much as her not owning it and blaming a decision she made on someone else, who is a big supporter of lqbtq+ rights. 

Anyway, at the risk of going into another full-blown, near nonsensical rant like I did earlier this week on here, I just want to quickly post about two things: an amazing book search app called Eurobuch and a book that is really helping me see how others see queer people: From Disgust to Humanity

More later if I can pin my thoughts down...

 

It was the not knowing that tore at Jean. Less the thought of what could have been, more wondering how Jo had fared in her new life. Jean would have given nearly anything to know for certain that she was all right.

Having recently finished the novel A Sweet Sting of Salt, I am still feeling it terribly. I appreciate it so much for its beautiful storytelling and achingly relatable characters and surprisingly happy ending, but I cringe at some of the memories it brings up in me with my personal life.

Like two of the characters in the earlier parts of the novel, a friend and I were torn apart after I came out to my parents in 1991. I told my parents about myself because I was in a bad way at the time and couldn't deal with it all by myself anymore. 

I knew better, knew that my parents (though nowhere near as far right as they are now) would not accept me and they didn't. Instead my father shut down even more than normal and my mom flew into a rage so intense it terrified me. They told me I had to leave or go to Christian "ex-gay therapy" (though it was called "homosexuals anonymous" at the time).

Telling them I would go (not knowing just yet how bad the 'therapy' would be) I went to my summer job the next day, upset but functioning. 

When I returned home the next day, my mom had gone through all my drawers and stuff in my room and found letters my friend and I had been exchanging all summer. She had them in her hand as she spoke on the phone to someone.

That someone was my friend's father and my mom was outing his daughter to him. I couldn't believe my ears, that she was doing that to someone she didn't know at all, possibly ruining a life in one nightmare moment of anger and self-righteousness.

Not that it would matter to my parents or anyone on their side, but the letters didn't have any kind of "hanky panky" in them or "devil's work" or whatever other words one might use. Instead, those letters served as support systems and bonding over all sorts of things, not just the isolation and sadness of living in a world that didn't accept people "that way."

To this day, I do not know whatever happened to my friend and my parents still do not accept me. I ended up going to "homosexuals anonymous," but it was so, so, so very bad I went home one day and told my parents I couldn't do it anymore. They gave me an ultimatum: go back or leave the house for good.

I couldn't go back but I also had nowhere to go so I told my parents I would change on my own, that I was "mistaken," "confused," and would join the local church youth group. The same church my mom had marched me into and demanded the pastor tell me I was going straight to Hell. (He told my mom he personally agreed with her that was where I would go, but that he didn't think that might be the best approach, a far kinder tone in his voice than either of the two leaders of the HA group had).

I started trying to date "normally" for the next five years after that, but I was still miserable and still having very dark thoughts of how nice non-existence sounded. I was fortunate that I made a nice friend through my feeble attempts at dating and he and I hung out together through a good part of the 90s.

Because I "changed my mind" in my parents' eyes and lived according to the way they wanted me to, I still had a place to live. In my late 20s I finally moved out and could breathe more freely, but I never forgot the horror and guilt of how I hadn't thrown the letters away and that my mom found them and called my friend's parents. I should have done better.

I've really, really digressed from the book I wanted to talk about, so I'll just say this before I leave for now. Whether it's the 1832 in the novel or the 1991 I tried to come out in or the 2025 that is the horror show that is now Trump...being gay and the struggles and sadness and isolation that come with are still all too real.

Some people still react poorly (or worse) and those they inflict damage on still suffer.

“Josephine Keddy?” Jean flinched. It wasn’t fair of her mentor to bring up Jo, and it wasn’t like that. Not at all, and it never could be. She and Jo had been the closest of friends, joined at the hip, telling each other all their secrets. Friends first, and then more than friends, right up until the awful Sunday at church when Jean found she couldn’t get close enough to exchange a single word with Jo anymore without some member of her family appearing to hurry her away, a solid living barrier sprung up between them. Mrs. Keddy had slandered nineteen-year-old Jean to anyone who’d listen, that she wasn’t to be trusted around their daughters, a filthy sinner and a bad influence…and in what seemed like no time at all, Jo had been married.

This probably sounds very disjointed and not readable, but I find that I get just as much flustered with my writing as I do with my verbal words when I am upset over something.

I saw some gaslighting and transphobia today that really bothered me so I asked AI what it thought of the true Christian attitude towards respecting people‘s pronouns and this is what came up:

(If even something as auto-generated and heartless as AI understands this why can’t human beings?)

Here's why respecting pronouns is seen as a Christian act:

• Love and Compassion:
  Using someone's preferred pronouns is a simple yet powerful way to show respect and affirm their identity, which is a core Christian value of loving your neighbor. 
• Empathy and Understanding:

  It demonstrates empathy and a willingness to understand and connect with others, even when they hold different views or identities. 
• Avoiding Harm:

  Misgendering someone can be hurtful and damaging, and respecting pronouns helps create a safe and inclusive environment for everyone. 
• Biblical Principles:

  Some Christians interpret biblical passages, such as 1 Corinthians 9:22 ("I have become all things to all people, so that by all possible means I might save some"), as encouraging Christians to be open and accommodating to others, even if they disagree with them. 
• "Pronoun Hospitality":

  Some Christians, like Preston Sprinkle, advocate for "pronoun hospitality," suggesting that using someone's preferred pronouns is a way to show respect and keep the door open for relationship and spiritual conversation. 
• Not a Compromise of Beliefs:

  Respecting pronouns does not necessarily mean agreeing with someone's identity or lifestyle, but rather acknowledging and honoring their self-expression. 
• Creating a Welcoming Environment:

  By respecting pronouns, Christians can create a more welcoming and inclusive environment for people of all identities, which is in line with the Christian call to love and serve others. 

 

One of the very hardest things for me as an adult is making new friends. Though it's nowhere near as painful nor as difficult or challenging as when I was a child or teen, it's still something that leaves me uncertain and so extremely nervous I overcompensate by talking too much.

Years ago, when I would babysit for supplemental income in my early 40s, I took care of a little boy who would greet other children on the playground by yelling, "Hi, everybody! My name is John, wanna play with me?" It was endearing and adorable and the kids responded well.

But doing that as adult would go an entirely different, most likely not good, way.

Well, this morning I opened my email and I had the nicest message from someone I met through a work event last Thursday. She wrote how much she enjoyed our talking and how she thought my cat was cute and to please text her if I had any questions about our event or if I just wanted to chat about our pets.

I felt like I was back in school, only this time with more favorable results. For me, making friends at this age is both welcome and scary and I am so grateful that my trying harder to meet people didn't have someone running for the hills.

 

Caught by surprise hearing "Let Your Love Flow" earlier today, it was all I could do not to break down crying, both for personal reasons and because of how things feel in the world right now.

Released in 1976, "Let Your Flow" is one of at least half a dozen songs I first remember having an emotional impact on me as a six year old. And that year is probably the first year that I have any memories of from my childhood. I remember my family and I were traveling to Gatlinburg, Tennessee in the summertime and ever since then I always feel a strong connection to the single.

More generally, today it hit me hard because of the lyrics:

There's a reason for the sun-shining sky
And there's a reason why I'm feeling so high
Must be the season
When that love light shines all around us

So let that feeling grab you deep inside
And send you reeling where your love can't hide
And then go stealing
Through the moonlit nights with your lover

Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
And let your love grow with the smallest of dreams
And let your love show and you'll know what I mean
It's the season
Let your love fly like a bird on a wing
And let your love bind you to all living things
And let your love shine and you'll know what I mean
That's the reason

There's a reason for the warm sweet nights
And there's a reason for the candlelights
Must be the season
When those love rights shine all around us

So let that wonder take you into space
And lay you under its loving embrace
Just feel the thunder
As it warms your face, you can't hold back

Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
And let your love grow with the smallest of dreams
And let your love show and you'll know what I mean
It's the season
Let your love fly like a bird on a wing
And let your love bind you to all living things
And let your love shine and you'll know what I mean
That's the reason

Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
And let your love grow with the smallest of dreams
And let your love show and you'll know what I mean
It's the season
Let your love fly like a bird on a wing
And let your love bind you to all living things
And let your love shine and you'll know what I mean
That's the reason

Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
And let your love grow with the smallest of dream

I've been thinking about what I wrote yesterday and also about how I realize bullying can't be blamed for where I am in my life. I'd say that most of the time I never even think about my childhood, except in my dream life. Sometimes, because I have lived in the same town since birth, I even bump into some of the people I knew in school and I remain unscathed.

Just because I'm a statistic (over 50 and never married and single) that matches the adult aftermath of childhood bullying doesn't mean I'm excused for how my life turned out or that it even serves as an explanation.

There are so many reasons: I never met anyone who felt the same about me, I never really experienced an active dating life and (most important to me) I never had the courage or defiance within me to break through my family's expectations that I literally live the straight (pun intended, or is it no pun intended?) and narrow life.

We are all responsible for our own actions, at least to a huge extent, in many situations. I could have tried harder with my looks, eaten less food, been less selfish.

I also know that deep down I didn't want to end up alone and where I am in my life now. I am unbelievably aware, as a childless cat lady and celibate lesbian, that I chose the path still frowned on by much of society. I'm not saying I chose to be gay (I firmly believe no one does) but that I chose what to do about it, if that makes sense.

Most days I am fine with my childless cat lady status (no matter what Mr. Vance says about women like me). But on the days I am not fine and I hear the unhappiness in my mother's voice because I never married (a man, obviously) or I see unwelcome pity in long ago friends I bump into at the grocery store I can't think of a good defense. I see what they see, a woman who is so unappealing and out of sync with the rest of the world, she is faking almost all of her daily actions outside the home.

Where I work is a family-centered place so I am around "normal society" every single day I'm on the job. Women with multiple children (especially when all are under the age of five) come in and I practically hyperventilate at all the responsibility and work that must come with that. I don't see the joy that I know is there, that I refuse to see because it will force me to recognize my colossal failures as a woman and daughter. I convince myself they are faking at their lives just like I am, but, truly, I know I'm only kidding myself.

I think back to when a boy in one of my classes back in high school told me he saw a future cat lady in me and that I should just go ahead and accept it. For years I was able to laugh at that, then lovingly embrace it when a cat actually did come into my life (a cat I love more than I ever could have imagined, by the way).

But now I wonder if I were a more deserving person, more acquainted with the right ways of living and the looks and personality I need, if I couldn't have been a cat lady and a person with both humans and feline as family.

 I asked AI this:

I wish so much I had kept a journal in high school but I didn’t and I know memory is unreliable so I don’t know how to retrieve some of my memories. I’m trying to explore to help me deal with some traumatic dreams I’ve been having over the years. Is there any way to retrieve accurate old memories through writing?

And it gave me some advice, some of which I already knew, but some that strikes as quite promising:

It's understandable that you feel this way, and it's great that you're exploring ways to process your experiences and dreams. While you may not have kept a journal in high school, writing can still be a powerful tool for retrieving and processing memories. Here are some strategies to help you explore and recover memories through writing:

### 1. **Free Writing**

   - Set aside time to write freely about your high school years without worrying about structure or accuracy. Let your thoughts flow, even if they feel fragmented or disconnected. This can help unlock memories that are buried beneath the surface.

   - Start with prompts like: "What do I remember about my high school classroom?" or "Who were my closest friends, and what did we do together?"

### 2. **Sensory Prompts**

   - Memories are often tied to sensory experiences. Write about specific senses (sights, sounds, smells, tastes, textures) associated with high school. For example:

     - What did the hallways smell like?

     - What songs were popular at the time, and how did they make you feel?

     - What did your favorite outfit or backpack feel like?

   - These details can trigger deeper memories.

### 3. **Timeline Approach**

   - Create a timeline of your high school years, marking key events, people, and places. Even if you can’t remember everything, jot down what you do recall. Over time, this can help fill in gaps and spark additional memories.

### 4. **Dialogue Writing**

   - Write imaginary conversations with people from your past, such as friends, teachers, or family members. This can help you access emotions and memories tied to those relationships.

### 5. **Dream Exploration**

   - Since you’re having traumatic dreams, try writing them down as soon as you wake up. Then, reflect on them by asking:

     - What emotions do these dreams evoke?

     - Are there any connections to events or feelings from high school?

     - What might these dreams be trying to tell you?

   - This can help you uncover unresolved emotions or memories.

### 6. **Photo or Object Triggers**

   - If you have old photos, yearbooks, or objects from high school, use them as prompts for writing. Describe what you see or feel when you look at them, and let your mind wander to related memories.

### 7. **Letter Writing**

   - Write letters to your younger self or to people from your past. This can help you process emotions and uncover memories you may have suppressed.

### 8. **Guided Memory Exercises**

   - Use guided memory exercises, such as visualizing yourself walking through your high school or sitting in a specific class. Write down everything you "see" in your mind’s eye, even if it feels vague or incomplete.

### 9. **Thematic Exploration**

   - Focus on specific themes, such as friendships, challenges, achievements, or regrets. Writing about these themes can help you recall related events and emotions.

### 10. **Be Patient and Gentle with Yourself**

   - Memory retrieval can be slow and emotional, especially when dealing with trauma. Allow yourself to take breaks and approach the process with self-compassion.

### Additional Support

If your traumatic dreams or memories feel overwhelming, consider seeking support from a therapist or counselor. They can help you process these experiences in a safe and structured way, often using techniques like **EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing)** or **trauma-focused cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT)**.

Writing can be a powerful tool for healing, but it’s important to balance it with self-care and professional guidance if needed. You’re taking a brave step by exploring these memories, and with time, you may find clarity and peace.

I've heard it said more than once (and some of those times very recently, too) that young boys pick on girl classmates because they secretly like them. Not only is this not always true (believe me on this!) but even if it is sometimes true, it is deeply problematic.

Telling young girls that this kind of behavior is indicative of a crush or something else seemingly innocent is actually telling young girls that teasing and tormenting are acceptable and normal. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way because I've heard and seen others comment on how horrible it is to make unacceptable behavior a "boys will be boys" thing.

I think back to my own experiences and how boys (and girls too) said very cruel things and threw things in my very big and curly and auburn hair and how I knew from a young age this was not because of any secret crushes. This was abuse for abuse’s sake. 

My teasing was not secretly coded. It was what it was: my classmates showing and telling me I was a freak, an oddity, someone who was so repulsive I was a constantly moving target. 

As middle school ended and high school began, I found the teasing and torment eased and instead my invisibility became the norm. I wasn't seen because I wasn't worth being seen. (Studies on bullying have included one that connects being bullied as a child to not being married at age 50 or above, which is what I am.)*

Other children's stories are different but no less abusive; in fact I know my story would pale next to others'. 

To tell a young girl that a boy is only making her life miserable because he likes her (in the times when the instances of this may actually be true) is not reassuring or making excuses...it is telling young girls (then later on: women) that this is how boys and men are and that they should just accept this.

On a side note, I just want to add that years ago I received a really nice note in my Facebook Messenger that helped me and validated that I had not been imagining or exaggerating things in my mind and memory. I saved it so that I could look it if I ever needed to fall back on the comfort it brought me. 

I remember trying to tell my parents once about what was going on and they told me that I needed to be stronger and not take things so personally. Their attitude had compounded things, but I also remember thinking at the time that since they both had very difficult childhoods growing up maybe I should just suck things up.

Getting the message below eased a lot of the pain I had felt both from the bullying and my parents not taking what I told them seriously.

* https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC4552909/#:~:text=Being%20a%20victim%20of%20bullying,social%20support%20at%20age%2050.

other links:

https://www.quora.com/Why-is-red-hair-mocked

https://new.calderdale.gov.uk/schools-and-learning/youth-support/bullying/if-you-are-being-bullied#:~:text=You%20do%20not!,the%20way%20people%20treat%20us.