Some new boundaries...
When my uncle and father died in January, I saw many family members I'd sort of avoided for years. Eight years, to be exact. I was riddled with anxiety at the prospect; I was braced for the worst. But the worst didn't happen. In fact, I was welcomed with open arms, told over and over that I was loved and missed.
It was so pronounced that I started to doubt some of the boundaries I'd created. Sure, these were people who'd voted for the guy who threatened my rights, threatened the rights and safety of people I loved. But maybe it wasn't so black and white. Maybe we'd all softened a bit with age. Maybe they hadn't realized just how horrible a person he was.
After a few heartfelt conversations, I exchanged phone numbers with promises to stay in touch and reconnected on social media. I let my guard down, considered making time to visit more. As happens with funerals followed by distance and time, nothing much came of it either way, but I remained softer, more open.
And then the bottom fell out.
My country has once again elected someone whose rhetoric is so violent, whose agenda is so inhumane, that I'm torn between rage and terror. Those very people I let back in have--in some cases gleefully--voted for a man who has left my community in genuine fear for their marriages, their jobs, and their healthcare. Fear for their very right to exist.
So, I'm done. I'm done being the gay niece, cousin, or old classmate at the back of your mind. The one who props up your hypocritical compassionate, open-minded self image by giving you a pass because you're nice to me. The one who lets you remain comfortable because we don't talk about it.
A friend asked me this week how I could think of kindness and hope and love at a time like this. It was easy, because I was thinking about the people in my communities who live by those very things, who are so very vulnerable now and need all the kindness and love and hope I can muster. But then I realized how many people I've allowed to stay in my life who don't live by those things. Who say one thing to my face and then behave the opposite.
So, yeah, a little late to the party, but I'm fucking angry, too. No, we can't agree to disagree. It's too personal and the stakes are too high. Don't come calling because I won't be picking up this time. I'm done.