For all who are weary of pretending, those scared to go home, or alone and forgotten, this story is for you…
Unseen and alone
He sits alone, anxiously rubbing his fingers over the rim of the worn cup. The diner has long emptied. Holiday shoppers with full bellies and full cars, driving off under the twinkling lights to warm houses full of warm glows.
He sits alone, swallowing the lump in his throat that grows and grows. Thoughts swirl in his head faster than snowflakes and darker than the midnight sky. It’s almost Christmas.
He sits alone, agony turning his stomach upside down while tears tumble down his cheeks. Dare he go home this year? All his life he has felt like an outsider, his body betraying him. He just wants to seen and loved for who is. Not having to hide or fake smile or keep calm when the family debates politics or drops snide remarks that cut like the knife he carries in his bag.
He sits alone, the smooth cold blade calming his heart and he wonders again why he is here. Why the heck was he birthed on this earth? If he were honest with those who even now are cooking and baking, getting the tables ready for feasting – he knows he would be more alone. Cast out. Forsaken. Hated. Scorned.
Barn full of shit
He sits alone, so tired of hiding. The diner is closing so he stumbles outdoors. Bitter air freezes his breath and pushes him forward. As he passes the nativity by the old church, he pauses, surprised to see a plastic baby shivering in a fake barn. He smells the shit that isn’t there and wonders at the wonder of a baby in a barn. Who would put a tiny perfect baby in the cow’s supper dish? Did this baby not want to belong, to be held, cuddled until the day breaks and the warmth of the sun filters through?
He steals the plastic baby and walks, no longer alone. In the safety of his apartment, he turns up the heat and wraps them both in blankets. He cuddles the cold plastic baby until the words spill out and he speaks his truth. Every last bit of secrets held tight, the years of pretending and trying to look right. He is who he is and embraces her, pronouns and tears jumbled together in a dance to remember.
Christmas morning dawns red in the sky as their heavy eyes shut. Peace and belonging wrapped tight as their blankets. No longer alone, they breath air that is clean, washed sweet with the truth. The plastic baby in the hands that rescued it from the barn full of shit.
The question of whether to go or to stay has faded away. As he sleeps, the baby whispers softly into his ear.
“Thank you. I’ve been in the cold for so many years, Your honesty and bravery have brought us both home.“
Truth about the holidays
A couple weeks ago I wrote about Austin coming out publicly. There weren’t too many surprises for him, as to who was supportive and who was not. If he spent much time around a person, it didn’t take long to get a sense of how they felt about people like him.
Which brings me to the here and now of the Holidays. We know it is a lonely time for those who have lost loved ones but we may not realize how lonely it is for LGBTQ+ folks. That niece or nephew at the big family gathering who hasn’t told anyone yet. The aunt or uncle who has decided to take their secret to the grave rather than risk being cast out. Cousin Benny who is thinking the world would be better off without him because he knows that the same family hugging him now will throw him out or proclaim that he is demon possessed if he speaks his truth. The friend we share drinks with who wants to find the words to tell us she feels like a fraud in the body she was born in and just wants to be authentic.
They are more than you think, closer than you know. Beautiful butterflies being birthed in cocoons not yet ready to open.
Our posture towards them matters. They read us like a book. It doesn’t take long for them to know if they can relax in our presence or if they must be on their guard, anxious and wary. Our gathering spaces can be barns full of shit or places of belonging.
Now, more than ever, is the time to be an ally. To show that you value authenticity more than cold plastic fakeness. You don’t have to agree to welcome, love and be a safe space.
Tips for creating safe spaces
Start with a heart that loves each person, no matter what. Decide to listen and learn when you don’t understand. Value honesty and forget about perfect public images. Be who you were born to be and accept when other do the same. Shut down conversations that are homophobic and/or transphobic. Perhaps even set ground rules that there will be no political discussions. Even if you think everyone is on the same page, don’t risk it. You may be surprised to know that the leaders you praise may not embody safety to some of your guests. There is a great article here that unpacks what LGBTQ+ people struggle with as they head to family gatherings.
If you are Queer, please know that the most important person for you to care for is yourself. It’s okay to skip family dinners that are stressful. Years of traditions and expectations are hard to break from, but you have more value than tradition. Listen to your gut. If it’s churning, turn around and go “home” to a space that is safe. Queer Theology has 8 tips here to get through the Holidays.
As always, I’m here to listen. Drop me a line if you need someone to talk to. Or if you want to be the first to know when a new post is up.