Sunshine and Rainbows

The most unexpected sign of welcome sometimes goes the furthest, quieting a fear I try to ignore most of the time.

No Rainbows, No Sparkles

In my life, I have walked many paths. I have donned my country’s uniform for two different branches. I have driven over-the-road trucks. I have been a log truck driver. I adapt. I modify my behavior. I hide behind my ability to perform, to pay attention to detail, and to put my time in.

That is not to say that I haven’t been to the gay bar. I used to bartend there once. I was even the door guy for a short period. I have dressed up as Poison Ivy and wrestled in a pool of Jell-O to raise money for HIV awareness.

My point is that I have often worked at the fringe of where my people are welcome. I hide behind my ability to get by, careful not to take up too much space or make myself too conspicuous.

No rainbows, no sparkles.

A Pin

Traveling nowadays, I often have my husband with me in tow, or dragging me along on some grand adventure. When we set out for Alaska, though, this was a work trip, not a destination I had chosen for us. Jonathan, my plus one, was excited. We had relatives who had been and spoke volumes about the destination.

In my mind, Alaska had always belonged to the mythology of the frontier man: rugged, religious, fiercely independent, and not necessarily welcoming to someone like me. There was an old image in my head of missionaries, settlers, and Native peoples pushed aside or converted in the name of a Christian faith that has historically not always been very warm and cuddly with my people.

Boarding the Wilderness Discoverer, I was surprised.

Not everyone, but many of the crew wore a pin.

A tiny rainbow flag.

I had never realized how much something so small could quiet a fear I hadn’t even realized I was carrying.

Among Family

I wouldn’t say I saw a little pride flag and suddenly it was all sunshine and rainbows, but even initially I felt, at the very least, seen. I also recognized in that moment that I had been walking around with a little bit of fear, even if I hadn’t acknowledged it.

Over the course of the trip, we both had a chance to share moments with crew members that really drove home the feeling that we were among family and friends.

I cannot fully explain what that means to a person who has never had the validity of their life questioned before. We all come from different backgrounds and find ourselves in different stages of life at any given moment, but to know that you are acknowledged as a whole person, weighed as equal and not less than, goes beyond normal emotional expression.

To Be Seen as Whole

I have been thinking about this for a while now.

It has been two weeks since we left the Wilderness Discoverer at the docks in Juneau, but the magnitude of that feeling hasn’t left.

Moving through life, there are a series of boxes I have learned to stop carrying. Things inherited from family, culture, society, and sometimes created in my own mind.

Some boxes are easy to put down when the right support exists. Others, you don’t even realize are strapped to your back.

In life, we are always chasing this idea of rest, of finally getting a break. I think what we are often truly seeking is not physical rest, but mental rest. Sometimes emotional rest.

Sometimes a pin can help you set down a box and simply be yourself.

No questions asked. No soapbox. No preaching.

Breathe.

And just be.