It's been 1111 days since my last diary.
Which was also my first diary. What can I say, I'm not a prolific dKos diarist.
For the record: Four Left Feet: Dancing at Maine Weddings.
That day, I needed to post about the sadness I felt when my neighbors in Maine voted against marriage equality. I'm from Massachusetts, I'm a lesbian, and I'd been to a wedding in Maine the month prior. That entire evening I'd been hyper-aware of my queerness, even though I'm a chubby, femme-y lesbian who passes and passes and passes, whether I intend to or not. I'd been thinking on the ride home about how I could have more rights in one place, and fewer rights in another -- not because of any change in myself from one place to the next, but because of a change in something as ephemeral as opinion.
The morning I wrote that post, I was desperately sad. I tried to be optimistic, I tried to believe things would be okay, but it felt so personal. I knew people had fought the good fight, and done their best, and that the times were changing. I knew how much worse it had to be for queer folks living in Maine. I knew I was the lucky one. I felt relief and guilt and sadness and I tried to feel hope.
But gay marriage had been voted down. I felt like a majority of people were telling me -- me personally, the girl who giggled at the idea of adopting lobsters from the lobster pounds, and knew what Stephen King's fence looked like in 1992, and had camped in a field to see stars you couldn't see from the city, and had waded into the ocean on Memorial Day weekend because kids in New England don't know what warm water feels like -- I felt like a majority of people from this place I knew so well were telling me that my love was wrong.
That feeling stayed with me for a long, long time.
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