Coming out as a rutabagean

“When we’re fully in flow, we could be attracted to a rutabaga.”* —Gay Hendricks

I’ve been getting more educated about transgender issues. My brilliant colleague, Tara Eastcott, Ph.D., took the time to help me understand how people have almost infinite ways of identifying ourselves. She believes that gender identity, gender expression, sexual orientation, how we relate to their bodies, and how we express ourselves sexually can all have unique, essential expression. Dr. Eastcott uses a slot-machine analogy, showing how, similar to the spinning symbols that line up differently for each pull, each of us has our own combination of how gender, gender expression, and sexuality lines up for us. And often we continue to spin the dial, making for a fluid existence.

Tonight I’m getting Civil Unionized. Er, having a Civil Union. Or, hmm,  joining the union. The grammar might be a bit clunky, but the bottom line is, after 25 years, my partner and I will have some sort of legal bearing in the world as a couple. I’ve been ambivalent about moving ahead with this–it’s still second class status, who is anyone to tell me whether or not my relationship is valid, etc. But it’s a step into a new world. I know that. This world doesn’t care about discriminating against people according to something like sexual orientation or gender. This new world knows that it is in everyone’s best interest to support who we are in our full essence. It’s a world of co-creation and love, mutuality and collaboration, celebration and expansiveness.

I’ve never liked the word “lesbian.” I don’t know what who I love has to do with some Mediterranean island. It might be more accurate to name myself a “rutabagean,” one who loves with my full self and my whole life energy and chooses to focus in on one person with whom to share my sexual expression. And tonight I celebrate my beloved, our partnership, and this new world where we can all be as big as we are.

*Correction: He actually said “rhododendron.”