So this post will likely not be easy to type.  But then none of the recent ones have been.  Alright, I will be honest.  Precious few of them are easy for me to type, because I am reaching in to a pitted and torn soul and pulling out pieces to share with you.  It doesn’t even matter so much that you, anyone, read them so much as I type them and put them out here so they CAN be read.  And I can explain it no further than that.

I recently – just a few minutes ago – watched a viral video from YouTube user SupDaily06…I am sure most of you have seen it fly past your FaceBook feed if nothing else.  It is the video of a straight man talking about a recent viral video of a teenager coming out to his parents about being gay.  First, if you haven’t seen the video, I want you to watch the video before you continue reading.

Now on to why this hits me, a straight (but never narrow) 34 year old woman RIGHT in dem feels…

As I have often stated, I have memory issues.  I suffered a grievous head injury going on nine years ago that has nearly wiped my life away, up until I was about 25 or so.  Some memories come and go; some come and stay.. some come, linger, and drift away like a soft perfume.  Some have never come back.  I know they exist, because I have pictures, but I remember not a thing.

This video brought back one that has always been teeming at the edges of conscious thought.

Where I grew up, it was not unusual for the jocks to call less-masculine or strong males “faggots”.  And it was also not unusual for the teachers to look the other way.  Until a kid whose name was..Well, I don’t rightly recall his name, but he preferred to be called Lola..I think maybe he was born James? joined our school.  He came dressed in long black skirts and combat boots, different types of shirts… I am sure you can imagine the razzing he got.  But joy of joys!  He gave it right back.  But the teachers began to take notice, then, which was..a turning point of sorts.  But before Lola joined our school,  kid a year younger than I had begun making friends with me.  In my junior, his sophomore, year, he came out to me.  He was fucking terrified.  He already stuck out enough, as a redhead, as a band geek, as a smart geek, as a little weird.  We got along well.  We kinda had a lot of that geekiness in common, y’see.  He came out to me on a school bus coming back from a football game; we were both in the marching band.  I told him if, when, he decided to come out to his parents, I’d be there.  No matter where I was in the world, Id come back.

Fast forward two years…I was living on my own, more or less, he was a senior nearing the end of high school, and he had a job and was paying for everything except rent. He decided to come out, I told him he could crash in my spare room.  I’d help him load his truck and my car, we’d get everything in one load so they couldn’t keep him from anything.  And lucky him, the truck was in his name.  And also lucky him, his parents rented from my uncle and didn’t know it.  That was our ace in the hole…

Things went nearly exactly as you hear and barely see in this video.  It began with his stepdad telling him he was too weak and he’d never make it and he needed him (stepdad) to support him.  Now, my friend had been paying all his own bills (except rent) since he was 15.5. Including a car note.  When he refused to give in and roll over, that’s when the hell started.  That’s when the “you fucking queer” and “faggot ass pussy” and other shit starting falling out of that man’s mouth like cum from a whore’s mouth.  I just stood there and let him fight his battle, because he was doing great.  He wasn’t cussing.  He wasn’t raising his voice.  He wasn’t threatening.  So his stepdad took it up a notch and threatened to take his truck, which legally he couldn’t.  When my friend pointed that out, he said he’d take his name off the insurance; my friend told him he’d already done that and gotten his own.  This escalated as his stepdad threw his chair back, began throwing shit all over the house while my friend’s mother just cried saying “why, oh where did we go wrong!” and then his stepdad started throwing tings at my friend.  That’s when I quit being silent, I stood and said, quietly but firmly “that’s enough”.  Then he turned his anger on me and called me a two-bit slut and a gawd damned whore and a pussy lickin’ dyke that done turned his boy again’ gawd and ever’body!  To which I laughed (I could not help myself..I have never been a lesbian, not even bisexual, not even then) and said.. “No, sir, but I won’t let you hurt him for being a man and making the best decisions he can for himself.”  Which turned in to things being thrown at ME, then he laid hands on me.  No one lays hands on me without my permission.  I told him to get his hands off me.  He refused and started shaking me.  I told him again, he tightened his grip so I put my hands on him, dug my hands in and shoved as hard as I could, with one foot behind his, which resulted in him tripping over me and in to a chair, which fell over.  I looked at my friend and asked if he was alright, and if he was ready to go.  He said he was  and not quite yet.  His stepdad began yelling he was going to call the cops.  I grabbed the phone, turned it on and dialed and handed it to him with a smile.  He told me to get the fuck out of his gawd dambned house and never come back, I was an UNNNNwelcome spawn of the devil, and a loose woman who had corrupted his wife’s (no long their) son and I was to remove myself from the premises UHmediatey!  So I smiled at his mother, who I’m known some 10 years told her I am sorry, but hope one day she’d realize we both love her, her son and I, and waked calmly outside with my friend’s stepdad still threatening me with bodily harm and cussing up a storm.  I waked about 15 feet from the door, leaned up against a tree, lit a Marlboro and waited.  Watching the door.  I had enough time to finish that cigarette when one of my uncles who owned the land came up, heard the muffled voices inside and asked what was going on so I told him.  He leaned up against the tree with me.  A few minutes later, my friend comes outside with his stepdad nearly purple with rage, screaming and yelling all manner of “faggot this and “queer” that and punching at my friend as he was coming out the door and saw me and sputtered “I THAWT I TOL’ YOU TA GET AWF MY GAWT DAMB LAND!”  I stalked to the bottom of the stairs and looked up at him nd told him very – very – evenly and just quietly so he had to lean down to listen, but loudly enough so everyone – including his wife and my uncle could hear me – “If you EVER fucking touch him again, I will bury you.  But if you ever touch ME again, my uncle will if I don’t get to you first.  Now quit being a fucking child, shut the FUCK up, go back inside and leave us the fuck alone.”  And I turned to walk away, and he grabbed me, again, and spun me around.  I had him held at a pressure point right about the time I heard the hammer of the gun pull back next to my ear, in his face, as my uncle had walked up behind me.  “Boy..I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing grabbing any woman, but you REALLY don’t know what you’re doing grabbn’ my niece.  And right now I think you’re damn lucky I’m here.  We don’t raise loose women, and we don’t raise pussies, either, men or women.  You might better remove your hand before she removes somethin’ else, son.  And don’t you ever talk to your boy like that again.  Who cares if he likes boyrs or girls? he’s a hard workin’ honest loyal sonofabitch!  He’s a good man whether he likes titties or not!”  The stepdad slowly removed his hands from me, I held on a moment longer, removed mine, backed up, gave my uncle a hug and a kiss on the cheek, turned around and didn’t look back as we tossed the last few items in the vehicles.  “See you for lunch this Sunday, Uncle Roscoe?”  “Yeah sure”  And then he turned and told the stepdad to be off his god damn land within six months.

My friend turned out okay, on that end.  Now, he died young, early..and stupidly.  I believe he spiraled horribly due to the life he grew up in enduring a lot at his stepdad’s hands, but he still made his choices.  But I witnessed something like in this video first hand.  16 years ago, and the stench of fear and hatred and.. nauseating idiocy gets to me still.

I have people ask me why I am such an advocate for “gay rights”.  I am not.  I am an advocate for equal rights for people.  I am an advocate for LOVE.  REAL selfless love is so fucking rare in this world.. {{{sighs & shakes head}}  i don’t care if you’re sucking dicks, eating pussy, sharing lovers, are part of an interracial couple.  Just be honest, be communicative, be real, be loving..

LOVE EACH OTHER.

SUPPORT EACH OTHER.

TALK TO EACH OTHER.

BE *HONEST* WITH EACH OTHER.

BE LOYAL TO EACH OTHER.

PLAY WITH EACH OTHER.

BE EACH OTHERS’ BEST FRIENDS.

BE EACH OTHERS’ CONFIDANT.

BE EACH OTHERS’ BEST PLAYMATE.

BE THE REASON S/’HE’S HAPPY TO COME HOME.

BE HAPPY TO COME HOME TO HIM/HER.

MAKE A HOME WITH HIM/HER.

Above all, find what works for you, as a couple (no matter how many people that couple makes in your case), and do it, and FUCK what the world says.  You have ONE life to experience as much joy and agony and loss and love and tears and highs and lows and LIFE as you can, and you can’t let the biased hate of selfish motherfuckers get in the way of your selfless love.

I am an advocate because I have actually been a part of peoples’ lives as they have transitioned in to who they are.  Who they always were  Who they were afraid to show.  I was their friend before, during and after.  I am an advocate because I know from personal experience I cannot choose who I love, so how the fuck can I expect someone else to do so?  I am an advocate because I have been hit, had things thrown at me, been called all manner of slurs because I choose to stand up for a friend because he was gay.  I am an advocate because I believe love is too rare to waste.

There are people I know who love me who I love who totally disagree with me on this, and that is okay.  We don’t all have to agree; but we should respect each others’ beliefs.

I am an advocate of love.

When you have it..when you truly for really real have it, hold it close.  Nurture it.  Feed it.  Water it.  Help it bloom and grow and become even more.  There will always be dark times, but with enough reflected light, even the moon glows on the darkest of nights.