When Kevin and I traveled to Luray, Virginia, on a romantic getaway for our 10 year anniversary, we had dinner at this family-owned Mexican restaurant up the street from our B and B. Two waitresses took turns serving us throughout the meal, and during our casual banter with them, it became clear that they were an adult mother-daughter duo.

The first thing the mom tells us when taking our initial order is that her daughter just had her second child a little while ago. So when the daughter brings our food, I congratulate her on her new kid. And for about 15 minutes, she really opens up about the nitty gritty of raising her son: the ways he acknowledges his father but not her; the difficult ways the first kid has affected her marriage; her views on spanking; and a whole lot of other personal stuff.

Lots and lots of intimate detail.

I only bring that up, because when I got back, I told my therapist that story. I described to her how the restaurant reminded me of this place my parents and I would go to all the time in Harford County. How comically huge the portions were for each meal. How it was one of the only restaurants to choose from, and it still took a twenty minute drive to get there.

And when I started telling her about the waitress, she considered for a sec before she said “Telling your whole life story and all of your struggles to a stranger.

Sounds a little familiar, doesn’t it?”

I’ve heard from some of you that you’ve appreciated the insight from my journals and writing. It’s probably important to be candid to you all, as well, about the functional purpose that this group has served for me over the past weeks. It’s been utter chaos starting so many new personal ventures concurrently: a new full-time contract; grad school; being a DC transplant; intentionally estranging myself from an abusive community.

In this nonsensical swirl of unfamiliarity, it’s been hard to not dwell on my struggles when among the local company I have on hand.

Being able to write to this group as often as I have been, though, has allowed me to withhold it from my new friends in my neighborhood. People I’m just starting to get familiar with, but with whom I am not ready to hand over the nuclear codes of my personal vulnerability.

For the first time, the circles around me in my local community are just intended to be fun. With no intention for our sitting on kitchen floors having those tearful, late-night conversations I’ve had with many of you over the years.

With my new gay gaggle, it’s really only been the fun, joyful things I’ve been told exist when in gay male community:

-Drag brunch with the neighbor down the hall.

-Concert plans with my old college ex-boyfriend and the friend group he’s integrating us into.

-The older married gay co-worker, who has a PhD in GIS, helping me with my mapping homework each week. (KP and I affectionately call him MapDad)

For two years, my therapist and I have been working on my lifelong problem of assuming all strangers need to reach the level of Chosen Family immediately upon my meeting them.

And I’ve made so much progress so far this year, because, when I have been feeling vulnerable from my intrinsically being vulnerable, I’ve been able to deposit those emotions safely into this group before going out to meet the world.

As I start thinking about the form and structure of a queer family, I will start from the beginning, using this project as the raw material on hand that I can hopefully build a future with.

This group has given me a type of armor, and for that I am truly grateful to you all.

Thank you for that; thank you for this.

Hope y’all are having a good day today, too 🙂

#QueerFamily #Lent