Should I Stay Or Should I Go Now?

Sometimes it is really frustrating being me. Here's a peek in to why:

This morning I was on Facebook and I saw a post from the Dryden Theatre that said they would be showing Julius Caesar with Marlon Brando tonight. I love old movies and who doesn't love them some young Marlon Brando? So I shared it on my Facebook page and asked if anyone wanted to go. Cut to several hours later and I had one person like the post. Other than that....crickets. At one point I started having a pity party. I mean, nothing makes you feel like you have no friends than when you get no response to a general Facebook invite, right?

So here's the first frustration: I don't know how to ask people to hang out on a one-on-one basis. Or at the very least, I'm awkward and uncomfortable. I did ask one person but she doesn't have access to her car. I can't get too mad because as an introvert I am friends with a lot of introverts so I totally understand the whole I don't want to leave my house thing. If you don't fall on to my part of the introvert scale, you're probably wondering why I didn't start texting or messaging people I know and seeing if they want to go. Because I always just assume nobody wants to go with me (they would've responded to the Facebook post, right?) or I've already made excuses for them in my head. They're married. They have kids. They already have plans. They need more prior notice than day of. It's Shark Week. We don't know each other well enough to hang out one-on-one. That sort of thing. So instead of trying, I pity party.

Here's the second frustration: sometimes I won't go do something I want to do because if it's just me the effort is just too great. I mean, I was so excited to see the movie! But now I'm sitting here trying to come up with excuses to justify staying home. If I'm faced with an unknown situation and/or an unknown place, my instinct is to back away from it. Every. Single. Time. I don't like that about myself, but that's my default setting. And I know once I go I will have fun and be glad I went, and yet.... I could clean. I could be doing some reading for my Bible Content Exam. I could start packing for Cuba. I could do what I've been doing all day and sit on the couch watching TV. It might rain. I could use the money later in the week when I go to The Cinema (a place I am very comfortable with).

So there you have it. Will I go? I'm still waffling back and forth, truthfully. I am trying to talk myself in to it. I know going out and doing things is how you meet people and become interesting. It's healthy to be in public once in a while, not just stay here with my Netflix and Hulu and coloring and cross-stitching and cats. I know, some of you are reading this and thinking I am being absolutely ridiculous. On some level, I'm reading this thinking I'm being absolutely ridiculous. Maybe that's why I'm blogging. So I can call myself out and push myself to do something I want to do. To be clear, this isn't a phobia. I'm not afraid to go and mingle with the masses. It really all comes down to comfort zone. And I hate it. I guess what I'm trying to say is the next time you see me do a vague general Facebook invite, know that what I'm really saying is I need the motivation and excuse to leave my space. Don't be afraid to reach out to me. Also, don't be afraid to invite me places. If I say no, you might need to do a little prodding and convincing. If I need the me time, as in if I've been doing too much with other people and need to recharge, know that I will tell you. Respect that. And ask me to do something again. I promise I will eventually say yes.

Dad Dad Dad Dad Dad Dad Dad

It's Father's Day which means, naturally, my thoughts as I sit here this morning turn to him. My dad. If you don't know, my dad passed away almost eleven years ago. But I'm not sad today. I know there are people who have trouble with today, trouble handling that emptiness. And it's not that I don't miss my dad or didn't love him. We didn't have a bad relationship. I guess for me it doesn't take one certain day to feel the loss. I don't sequester myself away on Father's Day or the anniversary of his death or his birthday. (Of course, since my Dad's birthday was Christmas day, it would be a little hard to do that.) When I miss him most usually is on some random day. I'll look at his picture on my wall or I'll see something on TV or read something that triggers the pain. Sometimes it will come out of nowhere. Actually, early October is hardest for me. He died October 29th (well, that's when they "called it" after midnight, but I guess he technically was gone very late on the 28th). I still vividly remember the day we spread his ashes. It was one of those rare late autumn days that feel more like late September: not too warm, not too cold, leaves everywhere. Was the sun shining? I don't remember clearly. Maybe because years when we've gone back to visit the spot it has been and they all meld together in my memory. But those early October days, when there's a bite in the air but the sun still keeps you warm, the faint smell of wood smoke is in the air, the fall colors are in full force.... those are the days I miss him most.

I never mind talking about my dad. I love sharing stories and memories. I was lucky enough to have him for 27 years. That's more than some people get. When I grieve, it's for me and my family and all the milestones he's not physically here for. I believe in some sort of afterlife so I think he's still with us on those days. Later today my family is getting together for my niece's birthday and I know he'll be there with us. But that doesn't stop me from occasionally asking him "Dad, what do you think? If you were here, what would you say?" Today is the day when many of my friends on Facebook will post pictures of their wedding day and their dad walking them down the aisle or sharing the Father/Daughter dance or just standing proudly by in a tux. I'll never have that. That being said, me and my sisters would often wonder if our father would show up at our weddings in his good jeans and flannel because we just couldn't picture him in a suit or tux.

Today I will be happy. Every time a sarcastic or inappropriate comment is said by one of my sisters or myself I'll think of him. When my youngest sister smiles I'll see his smile. When I watch my brother-in-law interact with one of his kids I'll think of how hands-on my dad was. When I see my blue eyes in the mirror I'll think of his blue eyes. When I sit a little away from everyone because my introvertedness keeps me away from the overload of so many people, I'll think of my dad's quiet presence as he would do the same thing. And if I catch a whiff of wet dog (because only my dad would choose to have that scent associated with him. It's a story. Ask me and I'll tell you.) I'll know it's him.

Happy Father's Day Dad.

Me and my dad, February 1980

Can love really win?

My friends, I am hurting tonight. As I'm sure many of you are also. I am sitting here in the dark with so many thoughts chasing each other in my head that I'm hoping that maybe by putting some of them down I can lift this heaviness from my mind and my heart. Orlando. An attack on the LGBTQ community. The aftermath.

Where do I begin? Maybe I'll start with privilege. You can be aware of the privilege you have as someone who fits in to the "normal" or "ideal" stereotype. Generally, we lift up white heterosexual male as the ultimate in privilege. I know that being a woman, especially one who is cis, white, and heterosexual, gives me a privilege, although not as great as the aforementioned male. But it's not often that I am as completely aware of it as I am tonight. Especially being cis and heterosexual. Sure, if I pass a group of guys on the street there is the immediate fear of "what if they catcall or say something rude/offensive/inappropriate to me?" But I don't have to be afraid that if I'm dating someone and we're walking down the street holding hands or having dinner together that we run the risk of being bullied or beaten. I don't need to be so worried about looks, glances, stares, comments, innuendos when I'm out in public that it becomes easier to just stay at home. I don't have to hide who I am. The world is pretty much designed for me and I don't need a club to be a safe space. I don't need to now live in fear that even that is no longer a safe space.

I have always considered myself an LGBTQ ally, even in high school. As a church kid, particularly a Catholic one, I always struggled with the idea that loving someone of the same sex was wrong or a sin or worthy of hell. I know that in some ways I can be naïve or even uneducated, but I truly can't comprehend hating someone simply because they don't love or aren't sexually attracted to someone of the opposite gender. I can't understand hating someone who says I was born in the wrong body, born with the wrong gender. I've never understood how following a man who preached love for everyone, especially the marginalized, means you think you can turn around and do the exact opposite. I don't know what it's like to live with that fear or that hatred or that persecution, but I grieve with and for the LGBTQ community.

I'm sorry, I feel like none of this is coming out quite right. I am hurting over what people are trying to turn this tragedy in to. They are pulling focus from what it is, a hate crime, and using it to push their own agenda. Look at what other atrocities are happening in the world every day that you don't pay attention to! We think the shooter had ties to ISIS so clearly we need stronger immigration laws! The shooter used an automatic weapon so clearly we need more gun control! This isn't just an attack on the LGBTQ community it's an attack on all of us! STOP!!!! Don't you see that what you are doing demeans and lessens what happens? It's like you're saying that this terror attack didn't count for anything. It's like you're saying it wasn't a horrible horrible thing because.... I don't know. What, it wasn't bad enough for you? What would have made it worthy of being a tragedy all on its own? Why does it need to be a stepping stone for something else? (Is this making sense?)

And one of the most painful and sickening things for me as a Christian and a seminary student, is when I see comments from Christians who claim that is was a just punishment from God. That God wanted that shooter to walk in to that club. That this is karma or deserved because clearly God hates gays. This is not the God I love. This is not the God I worship. This is not the God I follow. My God has been weeping since the early hours of Sunday morning. My God has welcomed his children home.

I keep seeing the phrase "love wins" everywhere on social media. This is not a new phrase to me, and it's one I normally believe in whole heartedly. But tonight, sitting in the dark, not too long after attending an ecumenical prayer service, I am struggling. I want to believe. I don't know if I can right now. It seems like every time I hop on social media lately (even before Sunday) I am bombarded with negativity. People are being anything from catty to outright vicious and hateful to whoever it is they're following or other fans. People are single-mindedly pushing their own views and beliefs without any room for discussion. The few times I try to watch the news it feels like nothing but violence and pain and heartache and hate. And I'm tired. Tired of feeling defeated at every turn. Tired of hurting. Tired of feeling like I don't know what to do. It feels like no matter what it is it won't be enough. The world won't change. Someone will be there to tell me I should do more, praying doesn't help, you're making this about you, you're wrong, here's why you should vote for my candidate. Help me know what to do. How do I support the LGBTQ community? Have I done enough? Do I back off? Is this even my fight? Should I even post this blog? If I look at my privilege do I even have the right to be sad and tired? Am I coopting the tragedy like all those people I've condemned?

For now, I will sit in the dark a few minutes longer. Then I'll take a shower and go to bed. Maybe read a little Nora Roberts to take my mind away. I'll turn the light off and pray. And maybe tomorrow love really will win.