My friend/customer M has lived an incredibly hard life. She struggles and she’s not afraid to say so. Not afraid to be open. Take an emotional risk. Say, “I suck.” And she’s one of my very favorite people because of it.
The other day she started telling me this ….
When she was 20 and desperate and strung out on drugs, she prostituted herself for 3 months because she couldn’t see straight, couldn’t see anything else to do. It was during this time that she first slept with a woman. Shortly after that, she told another, older woman, a woman she trusted, what had happened. The woman just looked at her and pronounced, “Oh. You’re gay.”
So M was telling me all this as we sat out on the front patio of Boheme. As she smoked, tears streamed down her cheeks. Tears streamed down my cheeks too. And I just let her talk:
“But was I? Was I really? I mean, she just said that. Poof! You’re gay! I’d never been with a woman before that and I was a total zombie at the time. A total mess. But this woman just said that and then said I was an addict and dropped me off at a rehab house for gays. So I’m grateful that she pointed me to sobriety, but, you know, she labeled me as gay when my resistance was low. I was totally vulnerable. But I was at this place for gays, right? And since I found acceptance from gays as gay and rejection from straights as gay — I was GAY. And it’s easy to become that because, well, suddenly, you’re in and accepted and there’s no going back. I don’t know the other life. I know this life. And now I don’t know what I am. I literally don’t know. I want what God wants for me. That’s what I want. But how would I ever explain this — all this — to a man? And I want kids, too, but my eggs are probably too old now, I guess. And I know all these people with kids. They talk about them all the time. I go to their parties and people I don’t know — people with kids — come up and ask me, “Do you have kids? Do you have kids?” And I always say, “No, but I can imagine.” But, Tracey, I can’t. I really can’t. I mean, I don’t know what that’s actually like. But I know what it is to want. So is that something? Does that count? I know what it is to want.”
She stopped and looked at me. And then we just sat there and cried from all the wanting.
So raw, so alive. You know how I feel about M. Love her. I am very glad you have each other.
Tracey, you are accomplishing more in one honest conversation than the church is in all it’s convoluted programs. That’s what it means to be the Body of Christ. It is one person shoulder to shoulder with another showing the love and acceptance of Jesus. Period.
Tracey, you seem to have a gift that allows people to feel they can come talk to you and it’s safe. That’s wonderful (as hard as it is!) and I’ll keep M. in my prayers, too. 🙂
*sorry* but I had another thought after I submitted.
I was thinking about the Cold War Kids’ song “We Used to Vacation” (lead singer has a phenomenal voice, BTW) where the narrator is a husband & father trying to stay sober–the line that always gets me is, “But after meetings, I felt so empty.” I don’t claim to know the first thing about the nature of addiction but I often wonder if there is some want needing to be fulfilled and it’s a difficult search to figure out what really can fill up that empty spot (for good).