What I Love About Being LGBTQ
I love being in love. No matter what letters we claim.
I love being in love. Building a relationship from the ground up newly everyday. No rules — well, only this: breathe, speak, walk, dance, sing, all of it from a place of love. Sometimes I have trouble finding that place, maybe I’m looking in the wrong direction? Turn around — oh whew, there it is! I just had to turn down the brain noise.
My life has been touched by the entire alphabet soup: LGBTQ. What riches!
I look back on my 74 years of living; every bit of it has been part of creating the life I have today. It is extraordinary. We met — the across a crowded room kind of met — she gave me my claim to bisexual. The B.
At that moment in time, I was married, asleep at the wheel, not knowing what I didn’t know about love, about being in love. She would not go out with a married woman. I went home and asked him for a divorce. Of course.
Before I knew anything about magic in a relationship, I moved in with her. Had my little overnight bag. Toothbrush. Maybe some clothes. I don’t remember. Probably not. For our first Valentines Day I gave her a bright red gigantic grinning Devil. We still have it. Right next to the flying pink pig.
