Content advisory: I discuss someone dying, a car accident, hospitalization, allude to multiple kinds of abuse, and am just fucking salty because I’m a salty ass bitch.

Summary for those who are also just surviving goddamn it: Divorce (don’t worry only the one I already write about), death, shifts and tumbles. And the people who support me through it all.

So this last month has been a whirlwind! It’s been a year since I filed for divorce, and just in the last month one of my dear mentors died, I’m not talking to my parents anymore, and I’ve had some other hard and exciting relationship shifts. I keep wanting to come up with something profound but the truth is I have no profundities for you today. I just have myself.

Let’s unpack that first paragraph for a moment, shall we?

Also, as a dear friend of mine has said, “If you didn’t want me to write about it, you shouldn’t have been an asshole.” They were a little more eloquent about it but I like my interpretation too.

ANYWAY

It’s breakup March!!! It was a year ago I had a conversation with my ex-husband and he said he wanted to have an ongoing connection because we have a “shared history.” A history where I was socially, logistically, and otherwise used to be something I wasn’t. That last phone call with him in 2024 prompted me to file for divorce. And of course I was the one to file, because I was the only one who got anything done in that goddamn ordeal.

That document has also been the impetus for my name change. I was on the phone with a financial institution this week and they asked me the reason for my name change. I laughed and said, “Technically the court documents were divorce papers, would you believe it my ex-husband was so boring and sad it made me change my entire identity including my whole-ass name?” The customer service rep did not laugh, but the person body doubling with me did and I think it’s hilarious. Leave it up to a white cis man to be a massive instigating factor in an existential crisis that leads to setting the institution of marriage on fire and adding gasoline to an already fiery queer awakening.

Speaking of white cis men, I do want to take a moment to honor my mentor, John Lewton. He died about a month ago. He saved my ass while I lived in Ohio many times, including coming to the scene of an accident where my car was totaled and sticking with me in a hospital waiting room. Grad school was brutal, but dinners with him and another one of my readers, Barb Coleman, were a fucking godsend. Those two humans were hands-down the best part of living in Ohio. Before he died, John and I got to talk. I came out, and he was super supportive, saying he was so glad that I could be who I was meant to be and he wanted me to be happy. When we started talking about queer relationships, he briefly told me some of his adventures counseling lesbian firefighters. It was good context for future challenges I would face after attempting several U-Haul relationships. But I digress.

STILL speaking of white cis men (gods they are getting a lot of attention in this post, what is up with that, it’s like they have too much power and influence in a world that doesn’t belong to them or something) I haven’t spoken to my father since November. Turns out he is a massive asshole. I knew this since I was young, but anyone that doesn’t respect my boundaries, respect my identity, or respect my community has no place in my life. So to quote one of his favorite people, he’s fired. More on that another time but don’t worry I got material. But that SOB (no offense Grandma, I love you and rest in peace) IS GONNA KEEP GETTING ROASTED. OVER A PIT. OF EVER BURNING FLAMES.

And the relationship shits. I mean shifts. Oops.

It turns out you learn things when you are vulnerable with people you love. Hard things. Through some of these shifts (if you know you know, if you don’t then send me cookies or money LOL) I have learned that I have a delightful history of picking someone, molding onto them like a fondant, think I have found myself, only to peel myself off and be like “oops all fondant.” Where did I go? What was I doing?

Thankfully, they were safe enough that I could keep growing. Growing in important ways I haven’t before. It was because of them that I was able to recognize the maladaptive patterns I have internalized from my family of origin. It was because of them I finally had to stand on my own two feet and admit what I wanted because if I didn’t I would implode. Even if we wanted different things, I didn’t implode and I was finally no longer fondant. I was the whole damn cake. I always have been.

I found myself saying over and over, I am nobody’s satellite and nobody’s backup dancer. So why did I stay in orbit? Why did I keep molding what I though I wanted around another person? Where did I learn that? *Glares at family of origin and abusive religious institutions*

And other shifts: I am surrounded by beautiful and powerful people who want me to be me and won’t let me exist as anything less. They hold me accountable. They give me an over the glasses look (or just a really piercing glare if there are no glasses) when I am spinning in my own BS, when I am doing the fondant dance/satellite orbit. They do multiple tarot card pulls a week. They have me over even after we’ve had a long day at work. They feed me SO MUCH FOOD. They text me daily to make sure I am doing what I need in order to take care of myself. They body double and answer my questions when it takes me a total of THREE HOURS TO DO MY DAMN TAXES.

So the last month has been fucking wild and keeping my beautiful body and soul alive has consumed all of my time and energy. To those who tried to shrink me into a shape that they could manage at the cost of my desires and personhood, fuck you. To those that called that BS out and have loved me even at my loopiest, thank you.

Here’s to a spring of good and important stuff growing out of the bullshit and pain.

The author looking FINE (as in the cuteness sense, not the I have my shit together sense LOL) with hot red hair, round gold glasses, a scarf they knit themselves that is blue, purple, green, and yellow, a black sweatshirt, and a stone colored jacket. The background is blue with the phrase “I like you” in different fonts and colors. I used to think I had to like everyone and forgive everyone for everything. I don’t. And I won’t. So beware.