What I get from my cross-gender friend


This post is part of the February Synchroblog “Cross Gender Friendships”.  See the full list of participants at the bottom of this post. I write about cross-gender friendship with some regularity, but I don’t often write about why I have a male best friend. Here’s the deal – I have a male best friend because that’s just how it worked out. We drove together to a couple of gigs, found out that we're basically the same person, and decided that we wanted to be best friends. I wish it was more dramatic than that, but honestly, that’s how close friendship often works. You find someone who “clicks” and you become friends with them. I think most of the time when we enter friendship with some kind of motive, we will be disappointed. But now that I have a cross-gender friend, what does … [Read more...]


Today I am saved: ~by friends who make me laugh so hard that my loud laugh turns silent because I can't even catch my breath. ~by the first embrace after another week apart, knowing that I fit perfectly with that man. ~by random Arrested Development quotes that always seem to come at the right time. ~by tears poured out in an email from a stranger, reminding me why I write some of the things I don't want to write. ~by reassurances from my daughter that she and her siblings and peers have got this gay thing, so don't stress about the injustice. ~by the increasing freedom to shut out all of the negative voices and just play on a Sunday morning. ~by seeing honest dialogue in the midst of disagreement and kindness in the midst of violence. I am saved when I remember that I'm not … [Read more...]

Post at Provoketive.com

Today I'm posting at Provoketive as part of their synchroblog on hope.Hope is a difficult subject for me, as I've written about in the past. Here's a snippet of what I'm sharing today.When I was young, hope was easy. I hoped for a trip to the near-by ice cream stand on a hot summer afternoon. I hoped for the perfect new toy for my birthday. I hoped that I would be able to fake my way through my piano lesson without my teacher recognizing just how little I had practiced. But as I aged, my relationship with hope grew rather uneasy. Despite my youthful abandon with hope, the adult me has frequently been afraid to hope. I’m not afraid to share my opinion, even if it’s controversial. I’m not afraid to ask difficult questions, even if it means that I may not find a satisfactory answer. … [Read more...]