I am home.

For the past three nights, I’ve been away for work.

For three nights, I’ve missed the sound of her breathing and the weight of her head on my chest as I’ve drifted to sleep.

For three mornings, I’ve rolled over only to discover that she isn’t there to snuggle as my body awakens for a new day.

For three days, I’ve missed her in ways I never knew possible.

When I hear the door open, I spin, soapy hands outreached and a grin on my face as she rushes towards me. I jump as she lifts and in an instant, all is well with the world.

We are wrapped up in each other, smiling like giddy school girls as we kiss, again and again, trying to make up for three days in a single moment.

I am so happy to be home.

Advertisements

Living my Happy, Hippy, Homo Life

Not all that long ago, I was plagued by questions; I was alone in a sea of uncertainty. I had no idea who I was, where I was going or even what I wanted for myself in this lifetime.  Nothing is ever certain, and everything can change in a moment, but today (and all the days, if I’m honest) I’m surrounded by peace, self-love and a sense of purpose.

According to Google, purpose is “the reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists.”

I know now, my purpose isn’t to achieve society’s goals; I don’t exist to be a daughter, sister, mother, wife or friend. My success in life cannot be measured by  my marriage (or lack thereof), my job, my home or any other external factor.

There is only one yardstick that can measure my success and it exists within me and me alone. The fullness of my heart, the satisfaction of my soul and the authenticity that shines in my eyes, my smile and everything I do is all that is required to know I’m living my best life.

I love my happy, hippy, homo life and I am proud of the choices I make each and every day to be my authentic self.

And quite frankly, anyone who doesn’t like it can go fuck  themselves.

 

My evolution of Christmas

Four years ago, I was preparing for a Christmas of chaos. I had three families to coordinate, my own husband and children, my parents, siblings and children and my (now very ex) husbands mother, sister and children. I had presents to buy, presents to wrap and most importantly time to allocate between three homes that exist approximately two hours apart, collectively ending up  four hours from home.

In my mind, the years of Christmas chaos begin to blend and I struggle to remember the specifics of each, but I remember feeling overwhelmed, underappreciated, guilty and so exhausted.

Three years ago, I was preparing for a Christmas unlike any I had ever known. I was alone, I was sad and I cried many tears. I had friends to pick me up, to keep me busy and to share their joy, but it was hard. However, when I finally gathered with my family and my children again, I felt a freedom I’d never known. Like the anchor I had been dragging behind me had finally been left behind.

Last year, I was surrounded (in my tiny townhouse) with my family; together with my children and my parents we celebrated Christmas in a whole new way. It was small, it was personal and I loved it. When my children went to see their Dad and his family, I spent a week with the most amazing girl, someone whom I couldn’t deny my feelings for and discovered that after a week together the only thing I wanted, was more.

This year, she is part of the family. Together we setup the Christmas tree, we listen to Christmas carols and we bake (gluten free) goodies. Together, we wrote Christmas cards, we bought presents, we hide the damn elf and we wrap the seemingly endless presents. We will have our own Christmas day and then pick up my boys and make the way to my family to celebrate Christmas all together with the family.

This year, I’m excited to see what Christmas will bring; together our idea of Christmas is evolving by the day and I’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful.

So homo

I love that my girlfriend has helped me embrace the humour of gay stereotypes. Last week, I pulled up in my lifted truck, wearing my flannel and listening to loud pop music and I had to giggle as she smiled while announcing I was ‘so homo’.

The first time I heard her say something was ‘so gay’, ‘so homo’ or ‘gayer than us’ I was surprised and a little bit confused. Was it ok to say that? Ok to laugh? I’ve come to realize that its all about the intent.

As gay women, we may be walking a fine line by using words that historically have had negative connotations, but its our choice to own them. It is our perogative to find joy and humour in societies perceptions. The truth is, as individuals and as a couple, we DO fit some gay stereotypes and that’s OK.

We are living our truth, being ourselves and finding our unique brand of happy and that includes embracing our sexuality and our place within a world that is evolving in its acceptance of those that don’t meet traditional expectations.

So when my girlfriend tells me my body language screams gay, I wear that label with pride and a smile on my face, because it turns out, I am in fact, ‘so homo’.

THIS is love.

I can feel my face as it transitions, tiny muscles contracting, moving and changing as my head nods ever so slightly and my eyes gaze downward (not with embarrassment but for privacy) as my emotions spill across my face.

I am overcome with a childish light; I giggle as the words tumble from my lips.

I love you.

I am amazed by the purity and authenticity of my feelings. My desire to share, all of me, with all of her. Her love envelopes me; urging me to be strong, to be brave and to be free, while assuring me that my heart is safe in her hands. My body craves the intimacy that we share, a current that connects us with a rawness like I’ve never known.

A year later, and she still makes me giddy; my happiness, my joy and my truth are written all over my face, every damn day.

And I know, THIS is love.

11:11

For the past year, I have wished for ‘love, light and happiness’ every single time that I have encountered an 11:11, and there have been many. Almost daily those numbers flash before me and I feel a connection with the universe; a doorway of opportunity to share my energy and release my dreams.

According to Kate Rose, the number 11 is “the universe giving us a sign to focus, to look at what is trying to call to us. It’s also letting us know that we’re on the right track” and 11:11 is related to “merging with our twin flames.”

Interestingly, my girlfriend and I had our first (not) date last year, on November first (11/1) and this year we celebrated our one year anniversary, our very own 11:11, when she came home.

I no longer have to ask where she will lay her head at the end of the day, because I know the answer. Before we sleep, her head will snuggle onto my chest and I will stroke her hair as our breathing blends to one. We will fall asleep together, in our bed. Because its no longer hers and mine, its ours. Our home and our life.

Seeing her every, single day gives me a ridiculous giddy smile and an indescribable feeling of joy and satisfaction. We have a lifetime of adventure ahead of us and although I never envisioned myself here, I feel nothing but certainty that this place, with this girl, my heart bursting with love, is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Why do we need labels anyways?

I’ve been thinking about labels a lot lately. How adamant I was, just a year ago, that I didn’t need a label and yet, how transformative it was for me to finally accept I was a lesbian.

My world seemed to explode, in the best possible way, when I embraced my gay; life seemed easier and more manageable when I stopped distrusting the fundamental core of my being.

And yet, in many ways, life was (and is) harder.

It’s harder because there’s no longer an inherent acceptance of my partner, no assumed ally around every corner. There are moments, when I have to take pause because I can feel the weight of the stares and the disgust mingled with curiosity that hangs heavy in the air.

But moments like those pale in comparison to the world I find myself in. An existence that honors my truth and respects my authenticity. Not only do I smile more than ever before, I smile in ways I never knew possible.

I am happy.

And for me, the catalyst for that change, was embracing my sexuality, stepping out from the crutch of a bisexual label and owning my gay.

And I love it. I love my homo ass self.

And my super gay girlfriend too.