Back to the Beginning

Thank you everyone who has sent me private messages, emails, facebook chats, or even commented on this site regarding the ending of Rainbows and Pony Rides.

Some of you "got it" more than others - and that's okay.

One particular blogger asked me, "What is the blog for?"  This question strung a chord with me.  I took immediate pause and went back to the beginning.  I started this blog because I was newly divorced, newly out of the closet, and I felt very isolated in my small community.  There was a certain stigma that I felt from my peer group at that time, that of course I have blogged about (and I'm like... kind of all set with that.  I don't really feel the need to go on about it anymore...).  I understand some of it had to do with ME pushing them away too.

But then there was this other stigma that I felt from the gay and lesbian community that I don't think gets talked about very often -  or if it does, I hadn't heard about it and maybe that was part of my isolation problem.  The stigma I felt was that I was married and had these children with this man.  How could I reeeeaaalllly be a lesbian?  And so on... I even felt some of this from the woman I was involved with at the time.  In fact, after we had broken things off, she had accused me of sleeping with a man.

So, I think I started out feeling isolated and wondering if there was anyone else "out there" like me.  A lesbian, a mother, possibly even someone who may have lived a straight life for a good many years... could there be even ONE other person?  That's all I hoped for.

I was already a reader of Sasha's Card Carrying Lesbian blog.  I admired her candor and honesty.  She blogs about her escapades.  She blogs about being "too pretty to be gay."  And when I read some of her posts about her bipolar disorder, I immediately felt connected to her.  However, she wasn't a mother.  She was never married or divorced.

So for many reasons, RPR began.  Mostly, I was just seeking a community.

And now, I need to embrace what I have found.  I have found what I was looking for.  There are so many of us who did get married, have children, and then "later in life" (*cough*... I'm only 31!) come out.  I started reading blogs of other women some like me and some not, some femmes, some butches, some undefined.  Some of the blogs make me laugh, some make me cry.  Some of the women were born men.  Some of the women pretend to be men.  Some of the women are straight.

But I feel accepted when I read these blogs.  And, when I write my own blog posts, I worry less and less each time about being accepted... because... I think through these last 8 months I've grown to accept myself.

I have started to blog more about *me* recently (not so much about my relationships or my kids or my job...).  Some of it has really left me feeling quite vulnerable and raw.  But I don't want to be afraid of doing it more.  Because I think that what I started this blog out to accomplish has sort of been conquered and now it's time to move in a new direction.

The tag line under the title of this blog used to read "blah blah blah blah .... of a single lesbian mother." Or something like that.  Well, I'm not single any longer (haven't really felt that way in a while now).   I have since changed it.  I am not sure if anyone ever noticed.  Today I asked S if she would ever want to be a "guest blogger" or a "co-blogger" on this site.  I told her she could even write about whatever she wanted... not just the things I tell her to.  (It's okay... laugh.)

I think it might be fun.  To get her perspective on this whole parenting thing... or she could just write about how crazy I am about the dishwasher getting loaded "properly."  Who knows.  It may suck.  But, I mostly think it's going to be great.

No More Pony Rides

My apologies.  I sort of dropped off there didn't I?  The last week of my school term proved to be rather stressful.  But, it was all worth it.  A's again.  And I actually kind of enjoyed my last assignment (a paper) in one of my classes.  I thought I would get straight away to blogging again... but... well... my house, kids, and S all needed some attention.  Plus, I had the opportunity to travel out of state to meet S's parents (The Duo) and spend a little time with my BFF Jess.  I can blog about all that later, I s'pose.

I've felt very pensive lately.  Had quite a few talks with S about this.  And many times she's encouraged me to blog, to write.

She knows how important writing is to me.  She knows that without writing in my life I would not be able to sleep well.  Writing is like the same as breathing air.  I don't even think about it.  I just do.  Well... I do think about it.  And that's where my problem has been the last month.

People Clutter.  People Clutter is hiding my work.  I'll try to explain:

I've had some opportunities where I've felt some boundaries were blurred in personal relationships - friendships - and I've done enough work and value my relationships enough to want to keep these boundaries clear.  My first instinct, of course is to write.  Like many would want to take a deep breath, I want to go to my keyboard and write.  Get it out.  Purge it... and then it sorts itself out.

But, I feel so choked up here on this blog.  I started this blog with the intent to be able to write as if no one were reading my words; that way I would be able to write as honestly and as uncensored as possible.  In order to do this I had initially decided to be as anonymous as possible.  But the ex girlfriend found out about it... then a schoolmate... and of course a couple BFFs... and I'm not sure how I told my sister, but she reads... and then of course my partner S reads....then through those wonderful trackers out there I found an entire slew of people reading that don't know that I know they are reading.  Oh and that guy from where I used to work...

I digress...

After awhile anonymity didn't really seem that important to me.  I felt like I was still able to write as if no one were reading (i.e. uncensored), and I still felt like I was breathing.

I don't know when I stopped breathing.

But I think all of these people are really just clutter that is choking the air out of me.  Maybe I'm just being a little dramatic.

Don't ask S her opinion about my melodrama.

Of course I was discussing this with my friend (or maybe a few friends, shhhhh!)... and I have decided I have a few options here.  I can stop blogging here, on Rainbows and Pony Rides.  I can move to another site (I've been wanting to go to WordPress anyway) and take caution to use extreme anonymity... with exception to S.  I feel completely comfortable with her reading my writing and often I need her to read something before I hit "publish" anyway.  Most of you won't get the forwarding address.

I can keep this blog for just fucking around and use an "old school journal" with a fancy pen (of course) for when I need to really breath.... I mean write.  I don't know how much I like this idea.  Part of the process for me is the keyboard.  Is that stupid?  Part of the process for me is actually having it in print.  Part of the process is having OTHER people read my story and take something from it.  I need that.  So I like this idea least.  I think. 

I think the last option I have is to continue, as I am... but just be brave.  And when I start to feel the People Clutter choke the air out of me... that's when I need to push myself through it... and just come up for air.

What do you all think?  Anyone... any ideas?

Because I'd really like to get to writing about some shit that's gone down this month.

Dear Roomie:

I know you can hear us.  I am sorry.

 

I don't know what else to say to her.  You see, S and I have a (very) part-time roommate in the city.  We keep a little crash pad for when her job with The Company requires her to travel with layovers and standbys and whatever-the-fuck-they want to call it.  My job... well... I also need a place to crash in the city because my nursing career has now found me in these "parts."

I'm new to this roommate thing.  Part of me really likes it.  It's fun in a "Facts of Life" boarding school, kind of way.  (Maybe not the best description... there's only three of us, and no one is really acting as a "house mother" but... I really want to fantasize sometimes about Roomie as Jo... Shhhhhh... don't tell S.)

Anway... I mostly don't like it.  But I really like her.  She is so smart and funny.  And super duper cute (I mentioned the fantasy thing right?)  It's just this little teeny tiny ... thing getting in the way.... you see...

I know Roomie can hear us.  Talking.  Walking.  Brushing our teeth.  I know Roomie can hear me typing this probably right now. 

S and I aren't really new to the "joys" of hushed sex.  We don't like it.  But we tolerate it... for the kiddlets.  

Then we come to the crash pad and Roomie is right across the hall and it's worse than having hushed kiddlets sex.  Because at least there is a CHANCE in frozen over hell that the kiddlets may not hear us, OR if they do hear us... they won't know what the fuck that sound MEANS.

But. 

No. 

Our 30 something Roomie knows what the fuck "that sound" means coming from across the hall.  "That sound" only really means one thing.  It means that we are really enjoying our boarding school experience crash pad.

an Outlet (so to speak)

I was moving some boxes to the new house yesterday with the kids. Nothing big. I was very tired and I don't have much packed yet. I don't have any trucks yet..

The house is a 4-ish bedroom. The ish is a long story I don't feel like typing out. Well, the kids keep arguing over who gets which room.

When it hit me.

I looked at which room is left for me... that one will never fucking work!! There's like ONE very poorly placed electrical outlet. Uhm... okay.

I went across the hall to the other bedroom... electrical outlets GALORE and... a phone jack.

I'm taking that room.

Anonymity

I was going to discuss this with my girlfriend before beginning this journey; however, after last night’s huge, dramatic explosion of emotions and vomiting of words I do not think we will be discussing anything blog related… and I am quite certain she no longer calls herself my girlfriend.  More on this topic later.

So, to remain semi-anonymous or not . . . that is the question I’m thinking about right now.  Let’s face it, no one is reading this right now, except MAYBE her and if I gave the blog address to some of my closest friends, at least I would have some readers that would give me some feedback.  However, would that just make me censor my words?  Because then I would be writing “for” them?  And what about when I want to write about more, *ahem* personal aspects of my life… like the pony rides!  LOL!!

All I know is that if feels good to be writing something that is not a graduate school paper.  I don’t give a fuck about my spelling and grammar right now and I can use the word fuck if I want to.  Okay, that’s a small lie… I care a little about my grammar, but I think “fragments” are fine in blog writing.

For now, three people have the blog address.  I am fine with that.  I have to admit there are some super strong women in my life that I would love to invite over here.  Maybe someday I will.