Tag Archives: Love

LGBTQ, Relationships

Love 6-ft Apart – I Met My Partner At the Beginning of a Pandemic

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I met my partner at a 2020 Christmas Potluck for queers. We had like three dates. Then they moved to Fresno for a month for work, then the pandemic happened and I began sheltering at home as a #HighRiskCovid19 person. So we were physically separated for half the start of our relationship. Then we said we love you over a fire in my back yard after getting drunk together many times without being allowed to touch each other. And then we adopted a cat. After I nearly died (here’s the link to that story).
Below, my new (!) partner and I share a bit of our story that continues to develop behind the scenes in the midst of a global pandemic rivaling the flu of 1918.
I’ve already told a lot of you that I now use they/them/their pronouns. You can learn more about what that means here.

A dark photo of a white-appearing person looking over a back yard fire as its light shines on their face
Fires have become our ritual. This is one of many we’ve had over the course of our socially-distanced dating, a particularly special one. We said we loved each other that night.

From Emily

Last week, I saw my partner of now four months and we took a rare drive out of their backyard to Sutter’s Landing where we sat on an American flag and drank whiskey out of a prescription bottle. They rolled up their pants and went into the water while I got stubbornly sunburnt. We drove around the city, masks on, seats covered, windows down. We are loving each other during a global pandemic and sometimes it means learning to be with someone, 6-ft apart.

Continue reading Love 6-ft Apart – I Met My Partner At the Beginning of a Pandemic →

#sickbody, Advocacy, ankylosing spondylitis, Arthritis, Charis, chronic disease, chronic pain, Current Events, disability, Equality, Gender, health, Inequality, Invisible disease, Politics, sickness, spondyloarthritis, Women, Women's Rights

A New Wheelchair User’s Experience at the Women’s March

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The first time I used a wheelchair was after tearing my ACL during a college soccer match in Washington, D.C. in 2005. My teammates convinced me to use one when we visited the Holocaust Museum, instead of crutches. I remember feeling invisible. I remember being trapped in the middle of congested hallways and exhibit rooms, seeing nothing but the backs of people scooting around and in front of me like I was a planter box in their way. I remember feeling empathy for people who spend a majority of their lives in a wheelchair. I hardly remember anything about the museum from that visit. And I became terrified of ever needing to use a wheelchair again.

On January 21st, 2017, I rolled in the Women’s March on Sacramento alongside some 30,000 people. I have only recently, very reluctantly, decided to begin using a wheelchair because of deteriorating health. My experience from college still haunts me, but I am learning to embrace how much more fully I can participate in life by using assistive devices that reduce pain and fatigue caused by Ankylosing Spondylitis. It’s the difference between staying home and showing up.

However, I was nervous about navigating the march, even with friends to help push me. I expected that I would spend all my energy advocating for space just to be able to proceed in a straight line. I thought I might regret the decision to use the chair, even though not using it could result in being bedridden for days or weeks.

Would I return home wishing I had not gone? Continue reading A New Wheelchair User’s Experience at the Women’s March →

Christianity, Current Events, Death, family, Grief, Love, Muslim, open letter, Racism, Relationships, Religion, Terrorism, Uncategorized

I Love You, Terrorist

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I love you, terrorist.

You have a name, like I do.

You were once a child. We both were, once.

Perhaps we’ve shared the same joy that comes from riding a bicycle. We’ve shared the same flavors of favorite foods, the beauty of sunsets, the feeling of joy while playing a fun game.

We’re both human. We share the same stars, moon, sun, and earth. Our bodies work in much the same way.  Food and water nourishes us and sleep invigorates us.

We both have parents and families that taught us how to discern right from wrong until we grew old enough to explore different sets of ideas and ways of thinking.

There are people in our lives we love so deeply whose losses we would grieve terribly should anything happen to them. Perhaps you’ve known grief at a young age, like me.

We are more alike than we are different. Continue reading I Love You, Terrorist →