It's a Monday. I'm sitting on the carpet with coffee, writing until it's time for work. I'm not a coffee chaser but i'm a Kim lover and I weave myself into her rituals.
Yesterday, on Sunday morning, we woke up in my house and took it slow.
It was a 'coming for one night with the kids' kind of thing that ended up being three nights, which in my books is the sleepover equivalent of a bottomless milk chocolate bar.
Sunday came and we were starting to see the bottom of that bar. and everything was perfect.
the 10s (I like this group name, but what will we do when her 10 yo turns 11 in a couple of weeks?), who sleep in the same room and dare to wake up before noon, came to visit us in our bedroom, as they do. I can see how pieces fall into their place through their actions and reactions.
They never felt like mom's bedroom is a no-go zone just because there is another mom there.
They knock, we cover, eveyrbody is doing their part to keep the public order and save on therapy later.
They had some questions and comments over the weekends but it seems like everything is simple when you are ten.
Tal: 'mom, why are you sleeping naked when there is another person in your bed?"
(because naked cuddling is da best with someone you love)
They feel comfortable to hop on top of bed with us, talking our ear off with their morning burst. the only concern in that picture is – their excitement may spill our coffee.
Sunday morning, we had enough naked coffee to fuel our way downstairs to handle life and the little crowd that is populating this house ATM. and then take ourselves up to her home because it's been three nights only and i am an opportunist and if i can spend two more days around her – i'm taking it. (Tuesday i have to be back for firefighting practice. it's in person now)
The night before we had 9 people in total for dinner, no, it was 10, 10 eaters but only 9 sleepers.
the teens chose to have a separate shift for their dinner as the 10s (there were three of them at that point) 'are too loud'. I think people always see younger people as too loud, be it at 30, 20, or 14.
So we didn't have the crowded table full experience at night. and that's ok.
It was supposed to be a quick 'grab something and go, got a long day ahead of us' but as one of us was sitting by the kitchen table, fully clothed, sipping her coffee (coffee is a plural noun), all the 10s and 14s and 17s started to trickle down the stairs, come out of their dens, pull a chair, or a piano bench or a drumming stool, whatever one can put their butt on, and joined the table that can hold, apparently, 9 people with no problem. one by one they got their egg of choice and dug into it and everybody stayed.
They stayed long after their egg was gone. I can speak only for myself but I think it's because of the warm bubble that surrounded us all. it was the best place to be.
and my heart was warm. so warm.
something funny happened there, around the table, with yolk smeared on plates and tea cups half full.
Netta recalled a tiktok from two summers ago, including her redhead friend, who was sitting with us.
she found the video, and we watched it.
here is a description in case the video is unavailable:
The song goes –
"oh my oh my oh my god,
this girl's straight
and this girl's not
and this girl's not
and this girl's not
and this girl's not
and this girl's not…"
and the video shows a line of girls, one by one they are at the front, matching the line.
lots of girls.
myself, my girls, and their friends
anyway, i didn't remember a redhead in that video, and we watched it together and there she was, first in line.
The video ends, i look at redhead and say: "so you are the token straight girl, eh?"
and she smiles, and mumbles: "well, not really. it's from a long time ago…"
i'm suspecting there are not too many straight girls left in this echo chamber of mine….
I just put up the flags again.
last summer was my first summer as the single decider of this house (pun intended) and i decided i will put up a bisexual flag for an extended pride month (so, for the whole summer). now summer is coming back and i have a big urge to be louder. so i also got the 'all inclusive' pride flag and i have the non-binary coming soon and there are a bunch more i want to get and make this house super colourful and super queer. because it is. and we are very acceptable of the straight cisgender minority. because that's who we are.
It may feel a bit weird to some, like teenagers who don't feel a need to wave their identity but you know what? i'm 47 and my agenda is a bit different.
First, I grew up in times when gender and sexual orientation were not something that was discussed. I suspect there wasn't even language around that.
And people were closeted, and those who were not suffered for it.
So I'm feeling a need to celebrate the change in times. and also signal some good colourful signals where it's needed, for whom it's needed. you never know.
And i want to be loud. with my identity. with my love.
I want to shout it.
I'm not seeking anyone's approval (I already got it. from the people that I care about their acceptance) and I have not experienced any oppression. not external. I suspect it was all internal. Or mostly.
When i came to a realization about my sexual orientation, I was already coupled for a few years in a monogamous relationship so sexual attraction to other people was not really something in my emotional vocabulary. I don't think I suppressed myself. I think that by nature my heart and my crotch were aligned.
But I had my thoughts about that other thing that lives in me and I seriously didn't know what to do about it. for decades. and I think that the self oppression was keeping it to myself and not talking about it. because we all know that when we start talking about things-we-don't-talk-about we find the experience is broader than we thought.
and that is something to regret on if one must regret.
a few years ago, when that bugging voice became louder, i couldn't ignore it anymore and decided to check about it. I still saw myself as a monogamous person, with big love and attachment to the same person, there was no change there. and that person was supportive of me checking that side of me that was not about him.
He has known about that for years and didn't feel threatened by it.
I came out to my best friend. who was supportive. she also made a point, multiple times, to hint or say or shout that i want to get into her pants (which i did not). and that's, if anyone is wondering, not the most encouraging message to a person who shared with you something they kept bottled for twenty years.
It is easy to say from where I am now that I'm out of fucks to give but then, a few years back, I had a bag full of them and i kept silent for a long time after. and then i handed my secret carefully to a few people that i could trust and get over my fear of getting that type of slap again.
no, it was just that person who was probably dealing with her own shit and I was chosen to be the dump ground. she is not my friend anymore. the other female friends made a point to hug me even more.
so it's been a process and now, being on the other side. i just want to wrap myself in colours and love out loud.