A Queer Life

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. “I didn’t think grown adults celebrated Valentine’s Day,” I said to Steve. He said he still wanted to do something Valentine’sy. Okay, that’s kind of sweet.   I am working as a server in a restaurant. I miss my kids. I miss my kids. I miss my kids. I’m not used to working all day on my feet but if I am going to do anything, being a server is pretty close to being a mom, but my kids aren’t there. I just hope I can make enough money to survive and hopefully thrive.  I could talk about socioeconomic issues. I could talk about what it is to be human. I could talk about the Chiefs winning the super bowl. But instead I will talk about the strange surrealism it is to be me right now.  Tyler surprised me on Friday by showing up at my work with the kids. They kissed me and said hello then goodbye, then I cried for the next twenty minutes while serving tables. When I got home that night, the kids were asleep on an air mattress on my bedroom floor. ...

The deed is done. Tyler and I are separated. I did it with lots of support from my family. I don’t think I could have done it without them. Leaving your spouse when you have no resources and little children at home and years of not working is a daunting task. Especially when your spouse is not being violent or aggressive. If he has a gun and a history of violence then there are government resources to keep you and your children safe. But if your husband is being supportive and kind and yet you have panic attacks around him and you feel like you are dying a thousand deaths every moment you are together, no one understands your need to be free. And if you have no resources, that lack of understanding amounts to traversing the Sahara alone to find independence.   I was at a party where a woman was asked about her boyfriend and she shouted: “I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!” When asked why she stayed with him she said: “Money. I can’t afford to leave.”  I have a friend who h...