Through Simon’s Eyes

On Graduation, moving on, and cats.

It’s pretty well known that I am incapable of getting through a conversation without talking about my cats. I have a three-year-old brown tabby named Simon, who is a very sassy but snuggly cat, and four 12-week old foster kittens living in my bathroom. I could talk for hours about all of them in more details than even their vet doesn’t care about. But I think what I am trying to express to others from my dedication to these animals is the deep sense of care, compassion, and love I have developed.

I never had an animal before September of 2015. My family never even had a fish (unless you count the goldfish named Squishy I won at the state fair in 8th grade that died two days later.) My mother was not exactly pleased when I told her I was adopting a cat. And you can imagine her reaction when I told her I was fostering 4 kittens.

I think my journey with animals is reflective of my journey through university and with my queerness. I attended the university I did because I knew absolutely no one. I could reinvent who I was. In the beginning, I was very very straight, cisgender, and normal. Of course, I never was any of these things but I was trying desperately to have some sort of identity in this new place.

I started to feel like it would be okay to whisper to some people that I might be gay spring quarter of my sophomore year. I think I literally whispered it to my best friend at the time. I spent the summer reading books about gender and sexuality in an effort to determine if this was truly reflective of who I was. Knowing more about queer communities and variances in gender and sexuality gave me language to help explain what I was feeling to other people.

I found that the more I was open and honest with the people around me, the lighter I felt. I could censor myself less the more I shared. Of course, it was not always positive. There were many people who suspected but didn’t know and stopped talking to me. There were others who told me this is something I should keep to myself “for my own safety.” But I think what I’ve found is I am more unsafe when I don’t tell people that I am a queer trans disabled person than when I don’t. I know that a lot of this is because I have white and class privilege. People are less likely to attack me physically or verbally because of the color of my skin and because they might view me as an intelligent person with social power.

There are still things that I can only share with my cat. Simon is the only being who truly sees all of me. She is the uncensored witness to my life. She sees when I don’t sleep, when I can’t get out of bed until past noon, when I don’t clean my room for a few weeks. So I’m trying to reframe how I see myself through Simon’s eyes. Simon is sweet, caring, honest, loving, insistent, and gracious. There is no ray of sunshine that goes unwanted, no pet that goes unpurred, no floor demon (or the red laser light) that goes free, no snuggle that goes unappreciated.

We all have our own cats who have witnessed us in many ways. They should be cats, but could also be dogs, people, or other creatures. These witnesses remind us that we are called to be something more for others. Simon calls me to be a better person because I constantly have to think about the impact my actions have on other beings. When I don’t get up on time or work too much, Simon gets fed late. When I’m not home enough, Simon is sad and lonely. I am nervous about what it means to leave the structure of academia, but I am comforted by the fact that Simon will journey through this new adventure with me. With her, I have to actively remind myself to participate in self-care, to live my life with intention, and to be present enough to take care of my responsibilities.

I don’t really have a plan for what is happening after graduation. I do know that I’m staying in the city and trying to find a job that has a high enough salary to pay my rent and feed my cat. But beyond that, I am just trying to remember where I came from, where I’m going, and to give myself enough grace to see myself through Simon’s eyes.