I am not certain how I , despite having 1 sister, 15 first cousins, aunts and uncles galore, am all alone. I am the only queer one, the only one who wears a size larger than an 8, the only one who is not in that exclusive 1% , but existing on disability payments and depending on the kindness of her ex- girlfriend to provide sanctuary. To have survived my life I needed to have resilience ( check) and an ability to believe, despite the obvious that one day –( fill in the blank), will welcome me into the soft bosom of her arms and say “I’m so sorry”. This hope has cost me, and I am trying now to see people as they are, not who I want them to be. To that end, I am really really trying to get out of the/ my ‘story’.
Yes, I have a sister who I will in all likelihood never speak to again. Yes, my ex ex girlfriend will always try to keep her daughter and I apart, and to that end. I can’t pretend said daughter is mine anymore, as it has lead me down the slippery slide of lies, landing me on my luckily ample ass. Nonetheless that hard landing has done the important job of waking me out of my fairytale stupor into a brave new world where I am not sure where I belong, and who I belong to.
The Buddhist teacher Ram Dass has said ” We are all just walking each other home”. All I do know at this crucial moment in time, is that I must finally and for the first time welcome myself home, before I take on the task of inviting others on that long walk home.
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