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This morning at 2:45am, I was sleeping next to my beloved [livejournal.com profile] someotherguy. Exactly twenty years earlier, someone tried to kill me.

I have told this story before, and I usually don't cut and paste, because I believe the narrative changes as my life changes, and that's part of how the truth works. Today, though, I don't feel like talking about it in detail—I'm really a little bored by it—which is kind of odd for me, because in general, the story kind of fascinates me.

Obviously, I survived, and there are a lot more details at The Day I Saw God and Left the Church, an essay I did for an atheist newsletter, but of course, that's also only part of the story. I'm happy to answer any questions you have, and I always rush to let people know that it isn't upsetting for me to talk about, and never has been.

Now, while I would never wish an experience like this on someone, I have to say that I will always look at March 21, 1990 as a turning point for me—as the day on which my life began to go in an authentic direction. I had swallowed a lot of other people's ideas about love and morality and god and life, against my own inner stirrings, and I started to come out of that. I look at myself now, and I can honestly say I am living the life I want to be living, as myself, in person, for real.

I spoke to my mom about it today. Our consensus was that that night and the aftermath were harder on her than on me, just as her almost dying from cancer was harder on me and my aunt than it was on my mom. When it's happening to you (at least if you're me or my mom), you are just too busy dealing with your recovery and stuff to really be all that upset about it. Plus, in my case, unlike in many (sexual/violent) assault cases, it was always clear to me that it wasn't my fault, and no one made it worse by blaming the victim, so I had no self-blame to worry about. My mom, on the other hand, had a hard time not blaming herself for not protecting her child, as irrational as we both realize that is, so she went through horrible agony in the months and years that followed.

Anyway, I'm so glad to be alive, and to be in this beautiful, brilliant world. Thanks for being here with me.

Notes

Sep. 19th, 2009 07:24 am
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1) A one of a kind steampunk piece was stolen from its creator at DragonCon. There's a cash reward for return, no questions asked, and more if the person is caught instead. Take a minute and look at the pictures, please, and signal boost if you're so inclined. http://brute-force.livejournal.com/127377.html

2) I saw a Freedom From Religion Foundation (FFRF) ad on the bus yesterday, and was happy. It was this one, but you can see them all here.



3) The skin I had removed for biopsy was/is clear of anything to worry about. (I half-jokingly told the doctor that I knew it wouldn't be cancer, because my family has already had its share of cancer, so we have no room for more. Still, good to know I'm just good at growing suspicious moles, and not at growing skin cancer.)

4) I bet you already knew that incision sites itch like a mofo when they're healing, huh? Since these stitches represent a very small percentage of the ones I've had in my life, this should not surprise me, but man, is it ever annoying.

5) Tomorrow is my 43rd birthday. I have been asked if I'm changing the name of the magazine. No. My getting older doesn't change the answer to life, the universe, and everything.

6) Yesterday, I FINALLY got the check from the Bar for the work I did for them back in late July. This is the check I am using to pay the printer. You can imagine my joy. There will be an Issue 2 soon! Finally!
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This interview about writing -- with Stephen King and the "Left Behind" guy, of all people, got me a little choked up. Not at the stuff about writing, but at the respectful, ecumenical (if that can apply to a religious person and a pantheist/atheist/something) tone of these two men who clearly admire each other even though their work is, shall we say, aimed at different people.

I took from this an admonition to find the good in my opponents, and to focus on similarity over difference.
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[livejournal.com profile] someotherguy points out that Schroedinger was openly polyamorous in the 1930s.

[livejournal.com profile] wordweaverlynn blogs a bunch of great links about Harvey Milk and asks what we're going to do to celebrate.

Here's what I'm going to do. I don't think I've talked much on this (Dreamwidth) journal about my sexual/relationship orientations and politics, and I'm not planning to import my journal from LJ, as I'm fond of fresh starts, so here is my celebration of Harvey Milk. It's me, as a professional woman, coming out, in response to his words:

"I cannot prevent anyone from getting angry, or mad, or frustrated. I can only hope that they'll turn that anger and frustration and madness into something positive, so that two, three, four, five hundred will step forward, so the gay doctors will come out, the gay lawyers, the gay judges, gay bankers, gay architects ... I hope that every professional gay will say 'enough', come forward and tell everybody, wear a sign, let the world know. Maybe that will help." Harvey Milk, 1978


I am queer. I am bisexual. I am polyamorous. I love two men with all my heart, and I have loved women, too.

I am also a lot of other things that get up people's noses: I'm a liberal. I'm a Green Party member who voted for Nader (once, anyway). I'm an atheist. I'm an unschooler. I'm in favor of the decriminilization of drugs, even though I've never done an illegal drug in my life. I'm unapologetically fat, and I genuinely love my fat body and the fat bodies of my lovers. (I love the thin bodies of the people I've loved, as well. Fatness is a beauty to me, not a fetish.) I am a white woman trying to fight her own racism and sexism, and not always succeeding.

But in Harvey's honor, I just want to end with this. I want to raise my own personal freak flag. I am queer. I am not going anywhere. And I work a respectable job, raise a family, pay my taxes, and am a contributing member of my local and national society. Sometimes I wear a sign (well, t-shirts, anyway), but it's impossible to know me for very long and not know I'm queer and poly.

Letting people know these things about me has not made the world come crashing down. It's a small thing in the grand scheme, but enough small things put together change the world. So I encourage you, if there's anyone you're not out to, to take that plunge and make the world a little bit better.
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[livejournal.com profile] someotherguy pointed me to a slideshow of the Intelligence briefing covers. He and I both assumed there were little Bible quotes off to the very bottom somewhere or something, but no, they're the star of the show. Check it out: http://men.style.com/gq/features/topsecret

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