Day 13: Decisions, Decisions, Decisions
I wake up early Saturday and my mind is racing. About everything.
And in a moment of extreme clarity (or extreme insanity), I make a decision.
I’m selling the house and moving to NYC (and yes, the line, “Fuck it, I’m going to Narnia” does run through my head).
Why? To be brutally honest, nothing is keeping me in Maryland once both my boys are in school. Because NYC is one of the few places that might accept me for who I really am. More so than Maryland at least. At least I won’t get stares for colorful hair ties on my wrist.
I suddenly feel free. To be who I am. To start a new life.
That said, I wouldn’t be moving until August, but I feel like the decision has been made. The dice have been rolled. So let it be written, so it shall be done. Blah, blah, blah.
I start padding around the house (in boy mode) exclaiming wildly, I don’t need THAT. Or THAT. Or THAT chair. GONE!
It’s like I’m purging my old life to get ready for my new one. Amazing year indeed.
My son wakes up and I tell him my decision. And we are perhaps closer than we’ve ever been. Laughing, joking, dancing. Okay, I’m dancing, he’s staring at me like I’ve lost yet another marble.
He works at the nearby movie theater and due to Computer Tsunami 2014, my playlist has been stagnant for nearly three weeks. Why don’t you provide the music for our drive?
He looks at me, thinks for a moment, then smiles and says, yeah, that’d be cool.
We get in the car, he fires up his iPhone and selects the first song. A Brony song.
Pony, pony, blah blah blah, then…
Isn’t it great to be different?
Isn’t it wonderful to be exactly who you are?
When you learn to start accepting yourself
You’ll become a shining star
We hit a stop light and I ask him to hit pause. He stares at me, a little taken aback.
I laugh through another bout of tears and tell him I’d like to get him to work without crashing the damn car due to another crying jag.
We both laugh and it’s all good. In other wave of synchronicity, the song is by Forest Rain, his favorite Brony musician. And transgendered.
It seems the person I feared who would be the least understanding of my plight is perhaps the most supportive. Genuinely supportive.
Perhaps this won’t be so lonely and scary after all.