Strength.

"Look well into thyself; there is a source of strength which will always spring up if thou wilt always look there."
- Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

First, let me start by saying a giant "amen, brotha" to my greek homeboy.

It's amazing how much strength women have. Our bodies are made for pain - the pain of our uterus contracting every month on the nose, the pain of childbirth (even if you haven't gone through it, like I have, imagine something that size coming from something your size - it hurts), the emotional pain we put ourselves through every single day in order to fit in... pain is a daily occurrence in the life of a woman.

And yet we stand here today. Strong. Capable. Powerful. Resilient.

It's a feat of nature, one that men couldn't possibly match. For me, as a bisexual woman, it makes women all that more amazing. When I'm with a man, it's kind of like being the little wifey. They attempt to "out man" you, whether they mean to or not, and the "woman" status is one that is accepted without fanfare or appreciation. When I'm with a woman, we can both grow and be strong. Learn. It's a beautiful gift.

So today, appreciate your greatness. Your strength. You owe that to yourself because another gift/curse of being a woman is our complete inability to know just how great we are.

I'm tired, yet something inside me won't allow me rest just yet. My fingers tap-tap on the keyboard of their own volition, haunted and frantic, my eyes scanning to find their meaning and rhythm.

There's a chill in the apartment and, despite being in a long sleeved button-up and a sweater, I find myself still needing the warmth of a fleece blanket. Although I'm naturally cold, I feel a specific wintery shiver even with the thermostat humming to keep the temperature at 75.

This is a silence and a noise, a feeling and a mindset that is not unfamiliar to me. Writing, creating, needing space and time and a muse before rest will come... it's an old friend that contends me as much as she exhausts me.

She's the friend I put off calling for months, only to find life so much more beautiful with her in it. The friend who, even though you may not talk often, still knows you like the back of her hand. Those friends, unlike some that inhabit my day-to-day life, are always loyal and always welcome.

She's sated for the evening, warm and fat on creative milk, and I believe she'll allow me sleep. I'm going to take that opportunity before the window closes...

Let it snow.

It's amazing how such a small thing, like a thin coat of powdery white snow, can change a person's outlook on life. The first snow of the season is a transformative thing, allowing us to reevaluate and reprocess scenery that has become secondhand through the rest of the year. A small layer of ice on a tree turns it into diamonds. Watching a rabbit bounce across the field behind your house fills you with an almost unbearable amount of holiday spirit and glee.

I love winter. I hate the cold, but I love the season. I would stay in my house, bundled in my white cashmere security blanket, all day long with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book. In fact, that's what I'm going to do today. Screw work. *grin*

Flaws.

I wish I were prettier. It's the plain and simple, yet somehow crass, truth. Some people wish for wealth, that they would never have to worry about finances again. Others wish for success, notoriety, fame. I wish that I were prettier.

There is a condition that I was made away of a few years ago called Body Dysmorphic Disorder. I dismissed it immediately, equating it in my head with the picture of tall, beautiful blond women looking at themselves in the mirror and pinching imaginary fat. But my flaws are more apparent than that, at least to me. I'm short. I have a front tooth that sticks out further than the other. I have stretchmarks and excess weight after having my daughter.

I feel like I have a scarlet letter around my neck, that everyone sees me and immediately sees what's wrong with me.

I know it's ridiculous, but it's true.

The smell of freshly cut pine fills our apartment, creeping down the hallway in curls, hitting us in random pockets. Our nostrils expand, slowly in and slowly out, our eyes shutting in ecstatic holiday joy. Christmas has finally come into my spirit, I thought to myself, as I caught a kiss from my partner under the tree last night.

Our ornaments, shiny and pristine from their eleven month cardboard hibernation, glitter and sparkle in front of brightly colored lights. Hot cocoa is made, the warm milk scented steam drifting off the top of the mug in patterns and waves.

I am alive. I am chilly, my fingertips numb from the cold, but I am happy.

Hello, was it me you're looking for?

I'm alive! I'm awake! I'm able to sit down at the computer and do things other than figure out what my main character is going to do and why and how to make zombies even cooler and more interesting!

NaNoWriMo is over and I survived, although I'm not sure my sanity is intact.

*cackles incoherantly*

Writing 1,667 words a day, roughly, was tough as hell but it really made me focus on writing in a more gut it out, pro-athlete training sort of way and less of the flittery butterfly do it when I feel like doing it way that I've been approaching it.

Writing is my life and I'm never going to make anything of it if I don't take it seriously.

So I'll be flexing my writing muscles more and more on this site and, because of that, expect this space to become less linear and a little more hippie commune, do what feels rightish.

But I'm back. I'm here. I may write about my life or some fiction. I may just give you my opinion on current events. But I will be here.

Really?! Really?!

Beating of a gay man a possible hate crime.

(New York) New York City police say a 49-year-old gay man leaving a corner deli near his home was beaten by two men in an apparent hate crime.

Price remains in a medically induced coma. He is in serious but stable condition.

Police say the two suspects taunted Price and yelled anti-gay slurs while he was in the store early Friday. They attacked him outside, not far from his home in the middle-class Queens neighborhood of College Point.

Twenty-six-year-old Daniel Aleman was arrested Sunday and charged with assault and aggravated assault as a hate crime. The name of his attorney was not on record.

A second suspect is being sought. The police department’s Hate Crimes Task Force is investigating.

----

Seriously, people?! What in the hell is it going to take for people to open their eyes? They say we don't need specific laws to protect us. That's like saying black people didn't need specific laws to protect them from being lynched. It's absurb. Gay people are the victims of harassment, verbal AND physical, every single day. How could they possibly say this wasn't a hate crime? Do they randomly go around people straight people up yelling "faggot"? To say I'm angry is an understatement. I'm furious.

Wake up, people. Wake the hell up. This is why we need equal rights. One of the speakers at the National Equality March said that our not having equal rights makes us a target, that is sends the message that we are less than whole people and should be targets for victimization.

This solidifies it.

Interesting article on CNN, of all places!

Bisexual or lesbian -- please make up your mind

By Nikki Dowling

(The Frisky) -- One of the first times I went on a date with a girl, she asked me, "Are you bi or gay?"

"Well, I'm still figuring that out," I told her.

Her response was: "I knew you were too good to be true."

I then fell all over myself in an effort to explain to her that, although I was unsure about how to define my sexuality, I was definitely into girls, more so than I'm into guys. I am not and have never been bi-curious, bi for attention or bi only when men are around.

Since then, I've figured out that I'm solely into girls. So I guess I wasn't too good to be true, huh?

But, alas, in parts of the gay community, being bi or being a lesbian who has hooked up with guys in the past is like having horns or an incurable disease.

This isn't the case for all girls I have dated, but some lesbians don't want to date anyone who has been near a penis. Ever. Girls who have always been gay and nothing else carry it like a badge of honor. And, frankly, I'm jealous of them. I wish it was that easy for me to figure it out. But it wasn't.

I blame the bi-hatred on the rise of girls I will call "Facebook Lesbians." These are chicks you see on social networking Web sites and in clubs and bars getting touchy-feely with their platonic girlfriends to get attention from men.

They make being bisexual unacceptable in the eyes of some and are the reason even I can't say the word without putting air quotes around it. And, although for most of these girls it stops with a kiss or an innocent boob-grab, some of them actually identify themselves as bisexual, thus mucking things up for the whole gay community.

I have numerous female friends who think they swing both ways simply because the idea of kissing another girl doesn't totally repulse them. But would they have a relationship with another woman? No. So are they bi? I don't think so.

One of my friends in particular finds it necessary to grab my face and plant a wet one on me every time she has had too much to drink. Often she gets the bartender's attention beforehand.

This pisses me off because it is both insensitive and hurtful. She's assuming I have no problem kissing her because I'm gay. But the fact is, I don't want to kiss her because she's my friend and not my type. Straight girls don't go around making out with their guy friends. (Usually.) So why the double standard?

Luckily, I have met numerous girls who can commiserate. A lot of gay girls I know dated men in, say high school, but grew more and more attracted to women, until the thought of getting with a guy became repulsive. While I believe I was legitimately into dudes when I was younger, I no longer am and don't see myself ever going back.

I have talked about this with a lot of lesbian women and none of us can figure out if we were suppressing our true feelings or if the attraction to men was genuine. For me, growing up, there was simply no other option. I lived in a small, conservative town and that was that. You were straight or you were straight.

So for all you boob-grabbing-attention-seeking-Facebook-lesbians out there, my message to you is this: Don't kiss me unless you absolutely mean it. I'll return the favor. OK? Great.

--

While this genuinely says something about the stigma of bisexuality, I find it interesting that the entire article this woman is still essentially vouching for the fact that she's "picked a side" and is making excuse for why she's slept with men in the past. Bisexuality isn't something you should have to explain, just the same as being gay or being straight. It's a valid sexuality and if people don't like it or don't get it, that's their problem.

But I agree about Facebook lesbians. *laugh*

This is why...

People ask me what is the most "different" thing about going from a heterosexual relationship to a lesbian relationship.

This article is the best explanation I can provide. I never had to worry about things like this before and now I'm terrified every minute that something might happen and I would have absolutely no say. It's scary.

Federal court dismisses lesbian hospital lawsuit

The thought that we might be out somewhere together, or not together, and something could happen to her that I would never even find out about since I'm not legally family is a scary and realistic worry now that I'm with a woman. We need to repeal the DOMA now and allow my family the same benefits that I could have had with my ex-boyfriend. Equality NOW.

Everything in moderation...

I never liked that phrase. It always seemed too much like a school principal or the more discliplinary parent standing over me, wagging his or her finger, warning me not to have too much fun.

I'm a creature of nothing in moderation and everything in abundance. I drink too much when I go out, I slept with too many people in my sexual hay day, I eat too much (hence why I am wearing a few extra pounds in a few less attractive places).

Perhaps the most negative of those traits, however, is the way I leap into things, get totally consumed by them, and burn myself out before I'm able to really glean any real benefit from them.

I'm looking forward to NaNoWriMo this year for that exact reason - I need to jumpstart my writing career again by being forced to write a certain number of words every day. I have so much to say, so much to get out, that I lose all motivation when sitting in front of my computer because it's just simply too big of a task.

I'm hoping this project, this space, helps me moderate myself more and indulge less. I want to get back into shape, write more, fixate less, and I need a driving force really smacking me in the ass to get moving.

Thanks for helping me, readers. :)

National Coming Out Day.

Today, I spent the entire afternoon sitting on the floor next to my muscle spasmed partner watching the National Equality March on C-SPAN.

Each speech seemed to be more moving than the last and I, a strong woman, was reduced to tears many times. The theme that stuck with me more than anything was that the time for patience, the time for promises without results, has passed. The time for me to sit idly by is over.

I'm moving into a new life of activism; a new life of being a proud, out, bisexual woman.

I hope you come with me on my journey and, more importantly, start one of your own.

So, in honor of National Coming Out Day, here it is:

Hi. My name is Melle, I'm 28 years young and I'm bisexual.

Mom, it's still not a "fashionable phase" like you thought it was a few years ago when I first came out.

Dad, I'm still proud to be the son you never had.

Grandpa, I'm sorry you feel like I'm a sinner and destined for Hell, but I'm happy you still care enough about me to pray for me (even if I'm not religious).

Kiddo, your mommy loves both girls and boys. I know you've figured it out since we live with Bridgette and you're not aware of how difficult this may make your life later, but I just wanted to tell you first. I love you, I'm your biggest fan, and I'm bisexual.

To everyone out there, don't be afraid to be yourself. It's always been my belief that the people who deserve to have you in their lives will understand, respect you and not treat you any differently. And the people that do, well, you're better off without them.