Flashback Friday: Do you remember?

I’m writing this while watching Cooley High on Bounce TV. There is a scene where the guys attend a house party. Cochise asks the girl playing the records to play a slow jam and she does. The lights go off and the slow dragging begins.

That got me to thinking about my first slow dance. It happened at a convention that my dad took me to. There were all sorts of planned events for us kids. One was a dance.

I didn’t actually dance at the dance. I was 14 and still figuring out how to be a gay girl in a str8 world. But, there was a girl I liked and whom I thought liked me as well. So, after the dance there was a planned after party in one of the older kid’s hotel room.

There were about 20 of us there. The music started and the lights were dimmed. Someone brought some Heineken beer and poured a bunch of ice in the bathtub over the beer.

After a while everyone was having fun and most getting a little buzzed on the beer. Including me. So when someone dropped a slow jam on the boombox it didn’t take much for me and my crush to make our way to a corner to dance.

Surprisingly as we began to dance no one really looked at us like we were doing anything out of the ordinary. I suppose because of the people in this group there might have been more than just me and my crush who were walking on the gay side.

Anyway, I remember being really nervous. I tried to concentrate on moving to the beat of the music but as my crush held me tightly she kept beat for both of us. All I had to do was think about how good she smelled and how good it felt to be in her arms. I think I might have been trembling a bit too, while we were grinding to the music.

That first slow dance was really wonderful. It was sweet and warm and safe. Thinking about it reminds me of what drug users say about their first time doing drugs. How great that high was. And, that they spend the rest of their time after that chasing that same great high. But, it’s never as good as the first time.

That first slow dance was like that. I’ve never felt the same way since. I’ve had some epic slow dances since then but none as sweet and soft and wonderful as the first time.

Do you remember your first slow dance?
How do you refer to slow dancing; grinding, slow dragging or just slow dancing?

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Not as excited as I expected

As I’m sure you know on Wednesday the Supreme Court (SCOTUS) overturned DOMA (Defense of Marriage Act) and refused to hear any arguments in appeal of a lower court’s decision that California’s Prop. 8 was unconstitutional.

I knew that SCOTUS was going to rule on these two cases and I expected that if the Court ruled as they did that I would be very excited. But, on Wednesday, as the rulings came down, I was pleased but not excited.

I thought that getting my Civil Rights piecemeal would be okay but, as it turns out it’s frustrating. Although I will very soon be able to marry here in the State of California and even though the Federal Government is bound to recognize any such marriage, my marriage would be a prisoner of California and thirteen other States and the District of Columbia and five Tribal Jurisdictions.

If I married and my wife and I decided to take a train trip across the country, our marriage would not exist once we left California and crossed into Nevada. And, it wouldn’t be recognized again until we reached one of the Northeastern States that same gender marriage is legal.

So, as others celebrate these court ruling as a victory, to me the rulings are not enough. I won’t be satisfied until I have the same rights as every other tax-paying American.

I suppose I’m just hard to please.

Unconditional Love?

I’ve been thinking about love a lot lately. Specifically, the kind of love I’ve experienced in my life. For instance unconditional love. Which is the first love that we experience, if we’re fortunate, from our families. Sometimes that love lasts most of our lives and sometimes we lose that love early in life. It was the latter for me.

When my family found out I was a lesbian their unconditional love transformed in what seemed like a heartbeat into very conditional love. That was a horrible experience to see that love almost literally drain from my family right before my eyes.

As is the case with many young people who lose that kind of love way too early, I began to look for it in romantic relationships.

In my teen years I began to seek and expect unconditional love from my romantic relationships. I expected my romantic partners to be there for me all the time, no matter what I needed. I wanted from them the same feeling of security I had lost.

Love and happiness
Wait a minute
something’s going wrong
Someone’s on the phone
Three o’clock in the morning

Talkin’ about, how she can make it right
Well, happiness is when
You really feel good, about somebody
Nothing wrong with being in love with someone

What appeared to be that kind of love would often be given in the very beginning of relationships. In the heat and passion of new relationships we can become almost superhuman in the amount of love we give. The difference, however, between that passionate love and unconditional love is that passion wains. As the passion retreats into a more realistic everyday kind of love, so does the unconditional-ness.

In my early twenties I met and began a relationship with a woman whom I thought would be the love of my life. A woman who seemingly without much effort gave me the kind of unconditional love that I was so hungry for.

It was what seemed like the perfect relationship. She was beautiful, super smart, understanding, gentle and most importantly, loved me unconditionally. Our love continued to deepen as time passed. It seemed like our capacity to love each other was limitless. Finally, I had what I wanted. I was happy and I was content. I imagined a future filled with love and happiness. I felt so lucky to have found the love of my life at such a young age.

I also felt vindicated. I had listened to the little voice in my head tell me that I wasn’t going to find unconditional love possibly ever and certainly not so easily. But, I had. And, I was smug in that love.

The relationship seemed to just keep blooming, day after day, year after year. I shared all of me with her and she shared all with me. Having that foundation of love allowed me to be confidant as I navigated life. I already had what I needed from her, so out in the world I was bulletproof.

Actually though I was bulletproof until I wasn’t. There was a day. A day that it all blew-up. A very confusing day. One that I didn’t have even the slightest clue was coming. That was the day our relationship ended. It ended with her being gone. Just gone. No reason given. No goodbyes. No last conversation detailing why. She was just gone. To this day I don’t know what happened. I haven’t talked to her since that day. My tries to contact her were met with changed numbers and cryptic conversations with mutual friends.

Of course in the time, after the dust of the end of that relationship settled, I fantasized about her returning. How she would come back to un-break my heart. Since then I’ve heard things. I know that she’s okay. I’ve even been given her number a few times in the years since by mutual friends. I haven’t called though. What to say?

But, I’ve learned something from that relationship. Something that I really didn’t know for sure before it. I learned that I am capable of what I desire most, unconditional love. Because despite the pain of losing her. Despite the mysterious way the relationship ended. I still love her. Maybe it’s sad to say but, I’d take her back in a heartbeat.

That’s unconditional love, right?

Do you believe in unconditional love?
Am I the only one who craves it?