The Condition of Love

I miss being a little kid.

When you're young (and lucky), you haven't been tainted by the world's harshness. You believe that the people in your life will always stay constant, never change, and that everything is pretty straight-forward. The concept of complexity has not entered your still-developing cerebellum.

I remember thinking that my friends and family would love me forever. That nothing could ever take that away. But as we mature, we lose that innocence.

I was struck again this morning by the pain of this reality.

I have this really good friend. Actually, I like to think of her as one of my best friends in the world.

I've known her since I was 14. We went to an all-girl's Catholic high school together. The members of our small band of girls all had strict, conservative upbringings, but we still managed to stir up good, wholesome trouble whenever we got together. She was my mischievous partner-in-crime. She always ate half my lunch. We would spend hours at her house after-school just goofing around, listening to music, and acting out funny skits. We were on yearbook staff together, and ran around the school with our SLRs capturing the joys of teenaged life on film. We sat next to each other in band, and counted down the beats before we would get the chance to blare our trombones. We usually ended up waiting for most of the concert piece and so we learned to count and gossip at the same time. (Trombone players typically don't get to play a lot in orchestral pieces.)

We shared a love of life and a youthful exuberance. I had found a kindred spirit.

At the ripe old age of 29, she is married, and has a young baby. She married a US citizen and so for the past couple of years, has called the state of New York her home. So needless to say, keeping in touch has been very difficult. I've noticed that since she's been married she seems more conservative, is restrained in her willingness to be silly, and generally more, for lack of a better word, "mature". She's also become more steadfast in her Christian faith. She and her husband are very spiritual, and have that general aura of those that live the "vanilla" life. It doesn't concern me, since I know that this is the life she always pined for and she is genuinely happy.

I came out to her a long time ago.... so long ago, that I can't really remember when it happened. Anyway, she's always been respectful of my choices in life, as long as it made me happy. I do remember that when I told her of my bisexuality, she was confused as to why I couldn't "choose already". I just chalked it up to ignorance, but ignorance in a concerned tone of voice.

The other day, she called long-distance as per her usual monthly routine. I happened to mention that I've been proactively dating as of late, and more specifically, dating women. Her response was: "Why would you go and do that?". I was shocked. I thought she was okay with it. I thought she was accepting of who I am. I was speechless. The rest of her questions came and went and I was so shocked that I don't think I had a chance to respond.

"I thought you wanted to get married and have kids? Why would you date women? Reese, it's like smoking. If you never smoke, then you'll never miss it."

All these comments were so ignorant and insensitive that I couldn't believe they were coming from the mouth of a close friend. And a close friend who I thought was already cool with it, to boot. At first I felt shock, and then I felt anger, and then followed sadness. This happened in the span of minutes. I basically told her that I was firm in my decisions, and I've never been happier. Then I changed the topic since clearly I couldn't have argued her out of her position.

It's just funny that the people who have been most accepting of me, have been strangers and acquaintances; people for whom there is no preconceived notion of who I am. Funny how a woman who has known and loved me for 15 years would have a problem with what is simply: me being me. I guess the only way I can get her to change her perspective is to lead my life in happiness as an example.

If only I had declared my orientation at birth... I think maybe everyone would have had an easier time with it.