This Facebook status that I posted yesterday is now graduating to the blog so that more than my FB friends can see it.
Pride Month has begun. I'd like to take this opportunity to come out of the non-closet—before friends, family, et tout le monde—and recognize my cis-het privilege. I pray to the benevolent spirit of the universe that I may use my privilege to make life better and easier for our LGBTIQA etc. comrades, whatever their closet status. And if they don't want my help, may they tell me firmly and politely, "No, thank you."
It's not that I've never experienced a form of closet. Our society still doesn't have a lot of understanding or sympathy for adulterers, polyamorous folk, or nudists/naturists. But that's nowhere near what our LGBTetc. friends have endured. And there are plenty of countries where it's far worse than the US, places where coming out means death.
I am sincere about my desire to use my privilege in these ways for the betterment of humankind. I am not, to borrow the Shakesville term, "All In" on this issue, but I will do what my conscience says I must when I can. Let no one believe that I am a paper ally, just showing off how well I have learnt the correct terminology. Quite by choice, I am Standing on the Side of Love.
No, I can't say that I take pride in the adulteries that I committed during my married years. The good news is that, although the marriage fell apart, we're both in much better circumstances than when we were together.
I can wish all I want to that my then-wife Pam had been more accepting, that we had communicated better and agreed to be open, that I hadn't sought love elsewhere when she was in the throes of a serious depression, that I had been more willing to educate myself about depression and other mental health issues.
What happened happened, however. Those wishes ain't horses.
I am willing to own up to my transgressions. I am also willing to own all that I did to keep the household running and our son busy with business of childhood when Pam's condition did not allow her to.
Despite attempts to codify marriage as "one man and one woman," nobody can legislate the shape that love takes. I can love, truly and deeply, more than one other, and I know the difference between plural relationships and fooling around. Friends of mine can love, truly and deeply, one or more persons of various genders including their own. Every day I am grateful for a generation of young adults—Millennials, if you will—many of whom explicitly recognize these facts and will most likely continue to recognize them as they mature.
I'm saving the nudism/naturism bit for a later post on this blog.
No, I can't say that I take pride in the adulteries that I committed during my married years. The good news is that, although the marriage fell apart, we're both in much better circumstances than when we were together.
I can wish all I want to that my then-wife Pam had been more accepting, that we had communicated better and agreed to be open, that I hadn't sought love elsewhere when she was in the throes of a serious depression, that I had been more willing to educate myself about depression and other mental health issues.
What happened happened, however. Those wishes ain't horses.
I am willing to own up to my transgressions. I am also willing to own all that I did to keep the household running and our son busy with business of childhood when Pam's condition did not allow her to.
Despite attempts to codify marriage as "one man and one woman," nobody can legislate the shape that love takes. I can love, truly and deeply, more than one other, and I know the difference between plural relationships and fooling around. Friends of mine can love, truly and deeply, one or more persons of various genders including their own. Every day I am grateful for a generation of young adults—Millennials, if you will—many of whom explicitly recognize these facts and will most likely continue to recognize them as they mature.
I'm saving the nudism/naturism bit for a later post on this blog.
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