Tag: Lesbian

11..., Lifestyle

11… Lessons Learned in Cambodia and Australia

RaeAnna

A month ago, I was on the trip of a lifetime in Cambodia and Australia. The how that odd combination came about is a bit of a long story, which I will get to at some point in time because I’m notoriously bad at writing about my travels until they’re long passed. 

Seeing the Sydney Opera House for the first time.
Exploring the temples of Angkor Wat.

Anyhow, I was in Cambodia and Australia for three weeks, and it was the best goddamn trip of my entire life. It was life changing; then, it was more life changing. I think it’s going to be one of the most life altering, influential trips of my life. Before this trip, I was working towards a future, but, now, I am incredibly excited about my future. 

While on my trip, there were a lot of life lessons. I would love to admit they were new and earth shattering. They weren’t. They were all things I knew cognitively and have preached but not really done because I’m a giant hypocrite. So, here are some of the lessons I learned while I was traversing the globe. 

Playing in the ocean at Sunset Beach on Koh Rong Sanleom, Cambodia.
  1. Cambodia is not at all close to Australia. I booked my trip within a trip thinking, ‘Gee, I’m already on that side of the world. Can’t be that long of a flight.’ Jokes on me. The flight from Sydney to Kuala Lumpur was longer than the longest flights I’d been on before this trip by a chunk. They may be close in time zones, but they’re in completely different hemispheres. I promise, I’m not dumb.
  2. Let friends help. I’m so bad at accepting help. My trip started off… Well, I legitimately had a panic attack before I’d even arrived at my gate in Houston. This trip was almost the very worst experience of my life. I’m me and can figure it out. But more importantly, I accepted help that was given freely and with love from a few very close friends. Hindsight, so fucking glad I did. My entire trip would’ve been miserable otherwise.
  3. Just go. I was a bit anxious about Cambodia. Likely not for the reasons you’re thinking. It’s the first time I’ve been in a country where I don’t speak the language. Not even a little bit. I knew NOTHING. I picked up some. Very little. I tried. Khmer is beautiful. I wasn’t perfect at it, but the people are amazing, and I didn’t need to be.  
  4. Spend the money. I have always been on the save, save, save for vacations so I can spend, spend, spend whatever I want (within budget) on the trip. I have always enjoyed just doing and buying the things I never would in my real life while traveling. This trip went a bit different. I’m also older. I spent money in a different way than I used to. I came home with almost nothing because I didn’t really want anything. I spent a bunch of money on doing stuff and staying in cool places. 
  5. Don’t spend the money. There were a lot of factors in not spending money on things. I’m older than I used to be and have more stuff than I know what to do with. I also no longer believe I need souvenirs to remember a trip by. Although, I would really love a chair from Cambodia. Pictures are now my keepsake of choice. I also had the constraint of changing places almost every day and bopping between CONTINENTS and having to carry everything. I had a plethora of opportunities to spend money on things. I chose not to. A month later, I don’t regret it. 
  6. I have cell phone service in the Cambodian jungle. I can facetime my dogs from a remote Cambodian island. But I couldn’t send a text from Grand Canyon National Park. The RIM. Not even IN the canyon. This will never cease to amaze me. 
  7. Let your friends bully you. I mean, not in the realest definition of the word ‘bully,’ but in the friendly, they-love-you-and-want-the-best-for-you way. I listened to my friend, Sabina, and that literally changed the trajectory of my future. I will be forever grateful. 
  8. Trust your gut. I am notorious for overriding my gut feeling. In everything from life to love. My gut has always, always, always been right. Why did it take me this fucking long to listen to it. I trusted my gut the entire trip, and I’ve never had a better, easier trip in my entire life. 
  9. Trust strangers. This is actually something I’ve always been pretty good at. There was a moment when I was 30 minutes into a tuk tuk ride, taking me out of the capital into rural Cambodia, passing cows and farmland with a man I had just met three hours earlier, munching on lotus he’d bought me, no questions asked, and the thought ‘Hmmm… this could’ve been a bad idea.’ Except it was a brilliant idea! I trusted my gut, which lets me trust strangers. Which turns strangers into friends. And friends make life so much more fun. FYI Bunna is the kindest man and best tuk tuk driver. If you’re ever in Phnom Penh, I’ll give you his number.
  10. Keep your heart and mind open. It’s the best way to travel. It’s the best way to live. It’s always led me in really interesting directions. I think it might be leading me into the most exciting adventure of my life.
  11. Go for it. Don’t look back.

Bisous und обьятия!

Looking at Popokvil Waterfall in Bokor National Park.
A baby Northern pig-tailed macaque watching from the trees in Bokor National Park outside of Kampot, Cambodia.
Learning how to surf at Bondi Beach in Sydney, Australia.
11..., Lifestyle, So Gay

11… Reasons I’m Proud… of Myself

RaeAnna

This is hard. Necessary. But hard.

Human and happy.

It’s Pride Month, and my heart hasn’t been in it, which is fine and life. Some years, things hold less weight in our hearts or minds than other years, and that’s okay. But I need to care a little bit because I am le gay, and I can’t not. So here I am, forcing myself to Pride for the last eleven days, and I’m starting in the most uncomfortable way I can.  

Being proud of literally anyone I know is so easy for me. Like… have you seen people? Pretty incredible. Okay, less so for white dudes. I’m so proud of my people for just being them. To the point I could explode with how incredible and strong I know they are. 

How do I do that? How do I give myself even a modicum of grace I give everyone else? What have I done deserving enough of pride? Nothing. That is my visceral answer. That is what I truly believe to my core. I have done nothing nor am I worthy of being proud of myself. I know, logically, this is not true, but it feels true. My internal monologue can be boiled down to: feelings fighting logic. Feelings never win out against logic. Except when logic is trying to convince my feelings that I’m a good or decent human deserving… anything remotely on the cusp of kindness. Pride falls into this strange category of feeling based on logical analysis. Or it is, at least, for me.  

Making myself create a list of reasons I’m proud feels like a form of self-harm; though, I know, it’s actually a good exercise in self-love, which is indicative that I love myself. I do not. I am solidly pretending that I love myself. Fake it til you make it. Going on 32 years, I’ve gotta have a breakthrough at some point in time. It’s not today, but over the course of 16 days—truly started this one a hot minutes ago—I came up with this list. I stretched. Maybe #12 should be: I’m really proud I finished this list and actually put it into the world. 

Just a Pride photoshoot. Nothing to see.
  1. I came out. Simultaneously the easiest and hardest thing I’ve ever done. 
  2. I am alive.
  3. I got tattoos. I now have ten with appointments for two more this fall. They make me happy. They make my body feel like it belongs to me just a little bit. My tattoos are personal and public reclamation and declaration.
  4. I don’t respond to my parents’ anymore.
  5. I cut out toxicity. The people who made me feel anxious, less than, unworthy, undeserving, too much. I shut out the people who wouldn’t or couldn’t match me. Being in my life is an investment, just like I believe being in other people’s lives is an investment; so I’m not making shitty investments anymore. 
  6. My puppies are safe and loved. In 2020, I spent a lot of time, money, and emotion rescuing and raising a dog and her thirteen puppies. Every single one of them is safe, happy, loved, and thriving in their furever homes. 
  7. I’m chasing peace rather than chaos.
  8. I’ve sought out friends who accept me as I am.
  9. I keep going.
  10. I’m trying really hard. 
  11. I’m making an effort to be vulnerable with those who have earned it. 

bisous un обьятий,
RaeAnna

Books, Reading Lists

A Stack of Novels I Read Once Upon A Time

RaeAnna
Look! A stack of books!

I read these books too long ago to actually review them. So I’m not going to. I also took the picture with these for a roundup so long ago I not only had bangs, long hair, I was also blond, and in a skirt. So enjoy the flashback. 

I do remember reading all these books. So I’ll give a brief: here’s what I remember thinking while I read this because my memory is still good enough for that. I’ll thank the gym because that’s why I’m going now that I’m creeping ever closer to decrepitude. Anyways, I have loads more books that will go uncriticized because I was lazy for years and don’t feel like going back. So I’ll work my way back into being a book critic, kind of. 

Destination Wedding Diksha Basu
I don’t remember loads about this one, but I do remember it being fun and witty. I read it on vacation, and it triggered all my Indian wedding jealousies. I liked this one. 

A great pool read.

Djinn Patrol on the Purple Line Deepa Anappara
This was heartbreaking as it dives into the endemic problem of the multitudes of missing children in India along with the ever-present and ever-growing wealth disparity in India. A social commentary told with equal parts mysticism and realism. I just want to hug and save all the kids.

God Spare the Girls Kelsey McKinney
I hate how authentic this felt. Set in small town Texas, the pastor’s two daughters are faced with life-altering decisions when their father’s secrets are revealed. It’s a story about womanhood and sisterhood and finding one’s truest self in the face of patriarchal society.  

Do you not read like this?

Little Gods Meng Jin
The plot of this book is an absolute mystery to me even after googling it. I don’t remember anything about this other than it exists on my bookshelf, there are in fact notes in it, so all evidence points to I did read it. So that’s telling.

Men, Women & Children Chad Kultgen
Written by a Chad, strike one. Though, that might be why it was so cringingly realistic about the horrible way men talk about women and sex and how that affects those men’s sons vernacular, which all affects the women they supposedly love. I just remember hating the men in this one.

Native Son Richard Wight
Ooof! It’s a classic for a reason. It is a truly remarkable and gut wrenching story. Layered and nuanced, it’s one of those books that makes you think. There’s a reason it’s taught in curriculums: fantastic discussion piece. 

So We Meet Again Suzanne Park
Typically, rom-com books don’t call to me, but every once in awhile, I’ll crack their spine. I love that it’s about two Asians just doing life and falling in love. There really does need to be more inclusion and representation in the books we publish and advertise. 

The Heiress Molly Greeley
Who doesn’t love a weird Pride & Prejudice spin off. This is done fine. I remember not hating it. It was cute, but I wouldn’t call it a social critique to rival the original. 

The Sinful Lives of Trophy Wives Kristin Miller
There’s murder and jealousy and mystery and wives in expensive clothing. That’s all I remember. I’m sure they figure out who done it at the end; I just don’t remember. 

The Vegetarian Han Kang
Incredibly moving and well written. It also made my skin crawl during a great many moments. I loved it in the I didn’t like it at all kind of way. Beautifully written. Absolutely art. I hated the content, which is exactly the icky feeling it’s supposed to give off. 

Transcendent Kingdom Yaa Gyasi
A bit disappointed by Gyasi’s second novel. She wrote one of my favorite books on her first try, and this one fell flat in comparison. A great book, but it’s hard to love when you know what the author is capable of creating. 

Shop the Post
[show_shopthepost_widget id=”4993380″]

In My Own Words, Lifestyle

11… Memories We’ve Made Over Seven Years

RaeAnna

Seven years ago today, Dylan leaned against my car and asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes, thinking we’d have a summer fling. We did, but the fling just kept on flinging. I don’t think we could look back on our relationship and call it a fling. We’ve for sure progressed into pawtner territory, which is what we call each other because we are partners in parenting our doggos and in life because that’s just what happens when you build a home with someone. 

Does he still cut my hair?

There is no way I could have known that “yes” would involve moving cross country, starting a new career, adopting a dog, then fourteen whittled down to five more dogs, buying a house, and so many more things. Seven years is such a long time to intertwine lives with someone. It’s been a giant roller coaster. There have been good years and bad years and in between years. We’ve built a life and a family together. We’ve gone through so very much from traveling to moving three times to deaths to COVID to quarantine to not getting paid by the government for months to friend breakups to figuring out who we are to my health issues to so many fucking things, and I don’t hate him. Pretty sure he doesn’t hate me yet either. That’s a win. 

Our family is about as far from traditional as we could possibly be, and yet we’re still here making it work every day. It’s not always easy, but we do our best, and most days, that’s good enough. After seven years, there’s not much I don’t know about him and vice versa. He knows me about as well as any human can. And on the bad days, he is the one I come home to and look to for comfort. He’s my best friend, support system, and pawtner. 

We’d known each other fourteen days… I thought he was crazy and a saint.

People have never been something I take for granted. I tend to not believe people love me or want me in their life. It’s something I will probably always struggle with. One of the few things in my life I do not question: Dylan’s love for me and my love for him. It’s a choice that we continue to make. We choose to love each other, and that means more because I know his capacity for good and bad and he knows mine. He has had every opportunity to stop loving me, to stop choosing me, and he never has. In my life, that is a gift I do not receive lightly. It is a gift I will forever be grateful for. 

Today, I’m looking back at some of my favorite memories we’ve shared. From the ridiculous to the sweet. We’ve lived a life together. I genuinely love our home and family; it means everything to me.

  1. Thirteen days into knowing each other, we went out for my friend’s 21st birthday. I voluntold Dylan to drive. I got so trashed, I ended up peeing my pants and throwing up in his truck. The actual story is far funnier. I lost my underwear in his truck for seven months. I got cocky and mean and an overall shit-show. I woke up thinking I would never hear from this man ever again… I woke up to a text telling me how much he adored me and was grateful I wanted to be with him. So then I thought something was wrong with him… There is, but luckily for me, it’s thinking I’m great.
  2. He loves race cars. It’s why we moved to Houston, but we always had so much fun going to the racetrack together that first summer. I loved watching him race and nerd out on all the things. 
  3. We moved to Houston with my clothes, his clothes, my mattress, my kitchen stuff, and that’s really it. The first month in our apartment we sat on a blanket in the middle of the living room. We moved with two weeks notice and almost no money. We were so poor, and we had a blast. (Holy fuck, look at us now. We have too much stuff.)
  4. Adopting Beau was a huge step for us, and one of the best decisions he pressured me into. No regrets. Six and a half years later, she’s still our best girl.
  5. He started cutting my hair when we moved to Houston because I’m too lazy to find a new hairstylist and make an appointment… He still does.
  6. No one is as enthusiastic or supportive of my love of carousels. He hops on with me every time, so we can enjoy it together. Then he lets me ride it alone so he can make sure I get a picture. 
  7. During our 2018 trip to Steamboat Springs, Colorado, he let me get him up at 4:30 in the morning so we could watch the hot air balloon festival and the sun rise. It’s still one of my favorite memories.
  8. We moved out of our one bedroom apartment into a bigger apartment in 2019, which allowed me the space to have my first office. Game changer. He pushed for the move, so that I could have the space since I work from home and have no escape. 
  9. He didn’t even bat an eye when he walked in the door one day in February 2020 to find a new and very pregnant dog in the house. He just kinda looked at me and went, “So we’re doing this?” And I was like… “It’s up to you!” So now we have six dogs instead of the one. 
  10. We bought a house. For the dogs. And ourselves. Mostly for the dogs. 
  11. How much he has loved and supported me as best as he can while I navigated my career, my dreams, my travel, my friends, my coming out story. At the end of the day, he is by my side and asks me to just be me because it’s enough. 

Bonus

12. He made our home a safe space for me to be me and write what I want to write and feel all of my feelings. He has given me the gift of time. Time to heal and grow and discover and exist. He has shared my pain and joys and burdens and fears. He’s not perfect. Sometimes, he’s a real asshat. But he loves me fiercely, and all he wants is for me to be safe and happy and healthy. And we’re learning how to navigate what that looks like. We’re no longer 23 and 25. We’re in our 30s. We’re entirely different people, and we have found a way to love each other for who we were and who we’ve become. I hope to continue finding ways to love each other in all our variations to come. Because I can’t see my life without the man I thought I’d have a fling with. 

Self-care is important.
Our first beach trip with our girl.
Our first picture in our first apartment together.
One of the best days and memories.
He always rides the carousel with me.
This was the announcement picture when we rescued the puppies.
We had to announce buying a house with some Pride. I wasn’t an out lesbian yet, but I was a proud pansexual!
A month into dating… We were weird and still are.
11..., Lifestyle

11… Unusual Traditions I Made Up

RaeAnna
It’s a photoshoot! Because I can.

Tradition might be one of my favorite things. I love traditions. They make my world go round. I have traditions for everything. And it takes very little for me to create a new tradition. Seriously, I could like doing something one time, and it is immediately a tradition…. That I will uphold for the rest of my life. The more I write this, the more I’m thinking this is solely an autistic habit creation thing… But I’m gonna stick with calling this… tradition! And let everyone believe it’s just a cute quirk of mine.

We love Starbucks.
It’s a cathedral. This caption will make sense shortly.

Please don’t get “tradition” mixed up with “traditional.” If I call something “traditional,” that is very much a bad thing. If I’m calling something traditional, I’m being polite in front of people I don’t trust. Whatever it is is likely rooted in heteronormativity, the patriarchy, capitalism, or something generally shitty.

Traditions, though, are lovely and often little things that bring me joy. I have so many. So, so many. I’m only going to share eleven that are all over the place in importance. But I’m not going to tell you which ones are the important ones and which are not. Also some have been practiced for decades and others a year. Just know, if I ever rope you into a tradition, you’re stuck with it for life. So take part wisely. 

  1. Every time Dylan drives me to the airport, we get Velvet Taco. Every time he picks me up from the airport late at night, we get Waffle House. This tradition does not go both ways. It’s only when I’m the one flying.
  2. Marshmallows with a little bit of hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls with Christmas music while opening presents on Christmas morning.
  3. Dumplings whenever I’m sick or extra-spicy sad. 
  4. Getting a Starbucks I got to a new state/place. There are limits and terms to this agreement, but there is a state cup for everywhere I’ve been. 
  5. Matching outfits on trips. I rarely travel with people, but when I do, there are coordinating outfits and a lot of photos. Alex has been on the receiving end of this tradition more than anyone. Although, Amanda is a fast second. 
  6. Lighting a candle in every cathedral I go into. I’m not religious. 
  7. Going for a swing on a swing set late at night when I’m sad and can’t sleep. Extra awesome when it’s a cold winter night and the stars are clear. 
  8. Photoshoots for absolutely no particular reason other than… I can. 
  9. Birthday tattoos.
  10. Mommy-Doggy ice cream cones every time we go to the vet. 
  11. Throwing trash in the backseat of my car and yelling “ROADTRIP!” We do not need to be on a roadtrip. We will pick up immediately.
In My Own Words, Lifestyle, So Gay

Gay A Synonym For Happy, So Gay Pride 2022

RaeAnna

The very first Pride I ever went to was ten years ago in London, albeit accidentally. I haven’t been to one since. I have celebrated every single Pride month in some way for twelve years—a year before I came out as pansexual. 

“Can’t Even Think Straight” True Facts

I’ve never really been to Pride. As an extreme introvert with zero gay friends in Houston, I haven’t had anyone make me go or go with me. As soon as my life included people, straight but supportive people, who would happily accompany me to Pride, the pandemic hit, and Pride was canceled for two years; though, I put on my own Pride Parade, dressing up my six dogs in 2020. 

The pandemic put stress on the seams of my life that I had been so desperately mending as they tore until I couldn’t do it anymore. I let every seam pop, and my life is just a jumble of fabric and thread at this point. Eventually, I’ll figure out how to sew it all back together, but I’m in the process of figuring out how I want the pieces to fit together because what was didn’t work. 

Over the last two years, I have become more and more outspoken about being gay. I’ve never hidden this part of myself since coming out eleven years ago, but being in straight passing relationships made it a bit more complicated. And it is exhausting arguing with people over my own identity. Two years ago, I decided to stop letting exhaustion deter me from calling people on their heteronormativity. A conversation worth having for myself but also for every other queer person so maybe one day it no longer needs to be had. Six months ago, I came out as lesbian. 

Gay, queer, lesbian. They’re all identities I happily wear. 

Living my best gay life surrounded by a bunch of circles.

Sometimes I feel like my life has been nothing but doing hard things. Thirty-one years of just getting by, biding my time until the next tragedy creeps in. In my early twenties, I chose to walk away from a cushy corporate life to pursue a career in doing the hard things. I spend my time learning and writing about this life and this world of inequity, violence, and struggle. As someone who has chosen to always have the hard conversations, to stand up for what I believe is right, to never stay quiet, to not accept what is as what can be, my career and beliefs, though rooted in kindness, has alienated everyone in my life who do not believe in working to create a better world. We do not have to hold the same opinions or beliefs, but my people cannot actively cultivate ignorance, hate, violence, or worse ambivalence. So, I am well acquainted with watching people walk away. 

My life has been a series of doing hard things, but coming out was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. 

As someone whose life revolves around gender and racial equity and human sexuality, as a gay someone, I am well acquainted with the fears my community has when they come out, when we live our lives in the open. I know the privilege I have as a straight passing woman. A 5’10” woman who can hold her own in a fight against a man. A white woman. An American woman. A cis woman. A woman with an education and the words to tell my story and defend my actions and understand the consequences of my choices. I choose to come out at every opportunity. I chose to get very gay tattoos in very visible places. I choose to put rainbows on everything. I choose to call myself gay and lesbian and queer. I choose to be loud and proud because so many people never had the chance. So many live in fear because they are who they are. 

My community has fought for the rights we have. We have died to be where we are today. Yet three days ago, I listened to a fifteen year old girl talk about her parents refusing to acknowledge her sexuality because she’s not straight, maybe bi, maybe lesbian. The fact a fifteen year old feels comfortable enough to call herself gay is such an amazing win, but the fight is not over. Especially if we look at what is playing out in the highest court of this nation and the repercussions of the decision and overturning of Roe v. Wade will have for women and my community. 

Blue and yellow are my favorite colors, so yes for this wall.

Pride is a celebration. It’s a celebration of who we are. It’s a celebration I hold in my heart and life every fucking day because Pride isn’t a month, it is my life. It is the lives lost to violence and ignorance; the lives lost to hopelessness; the lives lost to a lack of health care; the lives lost fighting for equity. Pride is a remembrance of every person who has come before so that we can wear rainbows and dance in the street. Pride is honoring the pain that has led to joy and love and laughter. Pride is hope that the struggles and fights we continue to face will be alleviated for the queer people of tomorrow. 

So yeah, I’ve made gay a huge part of my personality in the last two years. Because I’m fucking proud. I’m proud of my community. I’m proud of myself. I’m proud of who I am, and it has taken me thirty-one years of doing the hard things so that I could have this one easy thing. 

I am gay. I am lesbian. I am here. I am loud. I am proud. I will be at Pride in Houston whether that is with my people or by myself. If you need people, I’ll be your people. Because I’m proud of you too. We’re not perfect, but gay is a synonym for happy, so here’s to a Gay Fucking Pride and celebrating exactly who we are because we are exceptional.