I haven’t written a blog post here in 15 months. It’s such a long time, and yet it’s gone so quickly. The cardinal sin of blogging is to just stop, unannounced, for a long time. Oops.
So why pick up again now?
I think it’s a confluence of things and reasons, a bit like a perfect storm. Or maybe just more of a case of now or never. A friend of mine misheard me say something about what I was doing on the weekend last week and she looked so excited when she thought I said ‘blogging’. (God knows what I actually said. It sure as hell wasn’t jogging, and what else is there? Hogging…?) A whole range of emotions whacked me across the side of the head when she looked at me with such expectation in her eyes and I had to say ‘erhm, no, that’s not what I said.’ I felt surprised that she even remembered the blog, then I felt pleased that she did and she was clearly excited at the prospect of reading it again, then I felt guilty for abandoning it for so long, then I felt sad that I’ve stopped writing, and then I just felt plain angry and frustrated.
Which is basically how I’m feeling right now. I gave up on writing fiction – the one thing in this world I’ve known since I was five that I’m here to do. I pretty much write (non-fiction) for a living now, and it’s tempting to blame work on my sterility in the creative department.
Ah sterility, how thee haunts me. You see, it seems my writing efforts dried up around the same time that I went though IVF three times unsuccessfully. Somehow in my system I seem to have connected creativity to fecundity. Which, let’s be honest, is by no means an original connection. But how to untangle this messy little knot I seem to have tied myself into? Hot diggity, but there’s the rub. Especially as this knot is one of those complex little suckers that just gets tighter the more you work it.
Because… there’s more.
It seems that, on top of failing dismally at motherhood and being a writer, the whole gay marriage rights revolution that’s going on has turned me upside-down as well. Because, on top of being a failed mother and a failed author, I’m also bisexual, which, as a happily married woman in a heterosexual relationship, seems to be so confusing to society as to render me wholly unable to express who I really am to the world – something I never thought I would have trouble with. As I’ve gotten older, my bisexuality is something I’ve chosen not to express very openly. People just can’t seem to understand it, and the prejudice that surrounds it can be frighteningly extreme. Very recently, in a job I’m now thankfully no longer in, I mistakenly felt safe enough to express my sexuality to four of the people I worked with – 50% of them gay women – the discrimination that ensued took my breath away. Apparently I was sleeping my way to the top with my female boss, and when I voiced my concern to HR, the first response was ‘why on earth would you tell anyone that you’re bisexual?’ and the second response was ‘you know bestiality is illegal, right?’.
I kid you not.
It’s taken me a long time and a lot of work to figure out how to actually be bisexual. But I’ve got it sussed, for me, and I’m really happy about that. I just think it’s going to take society a long time to catch up. Homosexuality is gaining acceptance rapidly right now, which is something I’m extremely happy about, but the B in GLBT is going to take a little longer I think. This is partly because it’s so easy to hide the fact that you’re bisexual. It’s also because bisexuality and polyamory often go together and I don’t think church and state are quite ready to wave that flag yet. But, in the mean time, I think it’s time I waved my coloured flag a little more openly and with a little more pride. My husband is right beside me, holding my hand, waving that flag with pride with me, something that means more to me and fills me with more love than any bigoted idiot who can’t discern bestiality from bisexuality will ever hope to experience in his narrow-minded lifetime.
So, here I am, in this tiny pocket of cyberspace, waving my rainbow flag, picking up my quill again, calming my body and my nerve to do another round of IVF, and quietly, oh-so-quietly going about the business of getting back to being fabulous. I invite you to join me on this journey. I can’t promise to not disappear again, but I’ll do my best to keep click-clacking away at the keys, even if the only person who gets something out of it is me… what a good start that will be.