Author: Angel Beldam

Nature can be so very beautiful and awe inspiring. It can also be gross. I watched as a bird landed on the screen of my window and snatched the moth that was resting there. The bird flew over to the tree and gave the moth to its mate who then proceeded to eat it. I was fascinated and completely grossed out.

To Do Lists

My latest set of to do lists is now 10 pages long. That may sound daunting, but it was so much more overwhelming when it was all floating around in my head. Now it feels manageable-mostly.

Books on my Libby Shelf

“The Jasmine Throne” by Tasha Suri — 6% complete

“Treacherous is the Night” by Anna Lee Huber – 52%

“Getting the Love You Want” by Harville Hendrix & Helen LaKelly Hunt – 58%

“Hood Feminism” by Mikki Kendall — just download

Song

“She Keeps Me Warm” by Mary Lambert

Poem

“For Her” by Teddy (Christina Tedesco)

Photo

Taken by Mel Rapp

I’m a little bleary eyed this morning and off to a very slow start. I stayed up late last night watching the Phoenix Mercury’s first game of the season. Sadly they lost but it was an amazing game anyway.

Since we don’t have a WNBA team here I don’t usually follow women’s basketball except during March or the Olympics. But last year I became a Phoenix Mercury fan when I began following the news about Brittney Griner.

I can’t really imagine what it must have been like for her or her wife and family. Rebecca Lobo, one of last night’s commentators, described some of the challenges BG had to go through to get her mind and body into shape to be ready for this season. It sounded grueling.

BG expressed her profound gratitude for the extraordinary support she has received from her team and community. It seemed obvious to me that she isn’t quite comfortable with all the attention, but fully aware of the importance of her words and deeds.

It was beautiful to watch her on the court and listen to the fans cheer her on despite the fact that it wasn’t even her home crowd. It’s inspiring to see that people are actually capable of being kind and supportive of those who are technically the “enemy”.

It’s one of the most amazing things about sports and one of the reasons I love it so much. I look forward to watching as many of her games as I can and I’m hoping the WBNA sees fit to bring a team here.

Welcome back, BG!

My mother and I had a lengthy conversation about racism last night.

I said that all white people are racists, and it will take generations of conscious, active, hard work to even begin to eradicate it. She gave me her doubtful disapproving face because her experience belies that somewhat.

She does not see herself as white and has been on the receiving end of bigotry quite often. I told her though that she has spent my lifetime (she moved to the US from Chile three months before I was born) passing as a white woman and so long as she doesn’t speak no one would know she was not. It was her accented English and the company she kept, not the color of her skin, that always othered her.

I was able to convince her by saying if she had worked in an office when I was little instead of in retail, she would never have had to worry about making sure she had her green card on her at all times. I told her that she looks more like her European ancestors than like her Mexican friends and it was only being in their presence and speaking Spanish with them that put her in danger of the INS sweeps of the 70s and 80s.

She finally agreed and said she never really thought about it like that.

We then talked about how there are so many things we do and say every day and we aren’t even aware of their origin in our racist culture. Words like master (as in master bedroom), blacklist, peanut gallery, etc. The list is really long and could never do it justice here.

There are so many things I could write about on this topic, but I only have a short amount of time each morning. Suffice it to say, I know that though I would never intentionally do or say anything racist, it will take my entire lifetime just to dig out the top layer of all that has been ingrained and indoctrinated into my being.

So what are we supposed to do? Our best, until we know better. This phrase and it’s variations are becoming almost cliché, but I hope it never loses it’s impact.

We must be better my friends.

I attended one of my book club meetings last night. We had a fun discussion about a book I recommended, “Legends & Lattes” by Travis Baldree.

During the discussion, our weekly trivia games came up. I realized that I don’t have that many more trivia nights left, and I got a little sad. One of the best things about this book is that the main character starts her life over and creates a community of like-minded folx that support her through the tough times.

I too have built a community of amazing humans who I’ve really grown to love and depend on.

I know that there are many ways to keep in touch and stay connected but as someone who served on active duty and moved often, I know how hard it is to maintain the same level of connection with those we leave behind. Usually there is one maybe two people, you keep in touch with though the communications are brief and intermittent. When we reconnect it’s easy to slide back into that old camaraderie, but it’s never quite the same again.

With the exception of my BFF, I have never before fit so well as I do with this current group of friends. I have found my family and they have been so supportive. I will miss them fiercely when I leave to start the next chapter of my life.

I don’t think I’ve ever taken for granted how grateful I am to have found them, but now that I know my time in their midst is winding down I’m determined to cherish every interaction and attempt to strengthen the bonds so that maybe those bonds will stretch all the way to Tennessee.

I’m feeling big feelings as I write this.  My therapist reminded me yesterday that it’s good to feel the feels and then its ok to move on.  I am ready for my next adventure. And it helps knowing that all my friends are happy for me. Makes it not so scary which lets me really enjoy the excitement and joy.

Thank you my friends.

I have spent the last couple of days in a bit of a blissful bubble. I have been sharing my amazing news slowly with those I needed to tell in private but I’m near bursting to tell the whole world.

My potato book birthday bash was a complete success! Ok that’s not actually the big news, though it was a great party and I want to thank everyone who was there, especially my friends who hosted it.

Tennessee asked me to marry her!!!  I said yes, of course.

The proposal was beautiful and sweet and romantic. One of my friends, who is mostly forgiven, knew about it and recorded the whole thing so there are pictures and proof it really happened. And now there’s a beautiful ring on my finger to remind me it wasn’t a dream.

I am such a romantic at heart and this was exactly what I have always wanted (though I had forgotten it over the years). I love grand romantic gestures and for her to have included my friends and also planned everything around making sure my mom’s needs were considered tells me so much about this beautiful, amazing woman.

I feel seen as I never really have before. I admit to having to fight off the “I don’t deserve this” thoughts.  I can’t help but think I am not worthy of her, but I plan on spending every day trying to be the best version of me because she deserves nothing less.

That best version of me includes being aware that I am worthy of love and of a happily ever after. I am also aware that happily ever afters don’t just happen. They require work, but I am so looking forward to the work ahead.

Though you know what they say–if you love what you’re doing you’ll never work a day in your life.

 Thank you all for being on this journey with me. Be well my friends.

Today is a big day. It’s my potato book birthday celebration with some of my favorite people and, and, and Tennessee arrives in a few hours!

Yesterday was another just not enough time day, but today it no longer matters. I have a few hours left to try and finish up all the stuff I procrastinated on, which naturally will not be possible, but whatever.

So here’s my thinking on getting everything neat and tidy before she gets here. I think it’s like false advertising. If she arrives and sees this immaculate and organized space, she’s going to think I live like that all the time. I do not.

I live in constant chaos, which is great for my creative self but not always so good for the rest of me. I don’t live in filth, it’s not dirty, but I am not my mother. I can tolerate mess and chaos and sometimes it works to my advantage.

Back to my point–if I were to let my girlfriend think I live in a neat and organized space she will get the wrong impression and be expecting that when we finally live together and that would not be beneficial to either of us.

So my bathroom is clean, as are my sheets, and the rest of the space is slightly more organized chaos than it was. She might as well be exposed to it now, so she has time to run for the hills if she so chooses. I’m guessing that will not be what happens, but it’s only fair to give her the chance.

That being said I do still have a thing or two my mother is insisting needs to be done before she gets here. So I’ll leave off here with a note that since Tennessee will be here for a few days I may not get a blog out until she leaves.

Take care of yourselves my amazing friends.

Some days there are just not enough hours in the day. It’s almost time for bed, and I’m composing this on my phone because I’m too tired to go get my tablet.

It’s been raining for two days, something it rarely does here, and all that gloomy is messing with my head. Like most folx around here, I don’t like to complain when we get a good soaking rain, but ugh. At least it was just rain today. Yesterday, we had hail and tornado warnings.

I’m already over it. Not that Mother Nature cares, as we’re supposed to get more of the same through tomorrow.

I don’t do well when it’s gloomy for very long. I might need to ask Tennessee how often there are multiple days of gloom before I commit to a move. I guess I could always get a sun lamp.

When I was stationed in Germany, the constantly cloudy skies took a toll on my mental health. Back then, I had very few options. I suppressed it and faked it.

I was so much happier in Italy despite working more and longer hours because the weather was always beautiful. Maybe it just seemed that way because, well, because it’s Italy.

Anyway, we’re supposed to get a reprieve late tomorrow and Saturday morning before another round of rain moves in. Fingers crossed that it holds off long enough for a smooth flight for Tennessee. My heart just smiled at that thought.

Stay safe and be well, my friends.

Yesterday I didn’t do any actual writing. I did writing adjacent activities but no actual writing. It feels weird not to write. I’m pretty sure I do not like it.

One of things I stumbled across yesterday is how it used to be okay if a blog was 500 words, but then readers demanded more so now 500 words is not enough. Naturally I had to check how long my last blog was and it was just over 500 words.

I, of course, went immediately to “I’m a failure” and “why am I even bothering” because that is what I do. Took a breath or two and then went back to listen and realized I was missing the point. Writing the blog, whether its 50 words or 1000 is about connecting with readers, with my friends, current and future.

Would I love to sell millions of books and be a sought-after novelist? Kind of, yeah. But am I willing to pay the price to do it?  I’m not so sure.

Finding balance and peace of mind has been so much work and I struggle every day to achieve it. I’m not sure I am willing to sacrifice the progress I’ve made so far to try and achieve something that may never happen anyway.

For now I am not going worry about any of that. I need to just write–my blog, my sub plot, love letters to my girlfriend, thinking of you cards to my friends, etc. Making and keeping connections are more important to me than the business of selling books. That may change when I have an actual book to sell but I can only do so much.

So thank you once again to those of you who have supported this space and my words. Please know that I cherish your feedback in whatever form it takes.

Be well my friends.

I’ve wondered this before, but I really do think I’m way farther away from neurotypical than I’ve always thought. Not that I even knew what that was until recently.

So I may have mentioned once or twice that I spend a fair amount of time on TikTok.   I see all these things that say if you do this then you’re neurodivergent or if you do this you must have ADHD.

Things like not closing cabinet doors, staying up way too late scrolling TikTok or reading even though you know you’re going to be exhausted the next day, procrastinating, being easily distracted when in a noisy environment, talking too much in a social situation, wanting to or actually finishing other people’s sentences.

Also being good at math with strong attention to detail. This one I actually thought was one of the things that made me ‘normal’. There are many more that I don’t identify with or have, but all these things apparently mean that I’m neurodivergent.

So neurodivergence is an umbrella for many things including autism, dyslexia, and ADHD. Turns out that ADHD in women often manifests with sleep difficulties, anxiety, and eating disorders among others.

The traits I found most telling were the ones that I had more trouble with as a teenager than I do now. These were: rarely initiating friendships, having trouble maintaining them, and isolating to protect from discomfort; risky sexual behaviors; and struggling with rejection sensitivity with intense emotional responses to actual or perceived rejection. Ok, I still struggle with rejection, isolating to protect from discomfort, and maintaining friendships.  

I also know which parent I got this from-my mother. Other traits are tactile defensiveness and sensory overload such as cutting out tags from clothing, sensitivity to certain smells and loud noises, having to wear socks inside out, etc. She has all of these in spades.

I have learned to mask or compensate for most of these things over the years. It is kind of nice to know though that all of these quirks of mine are not the result of multiple faults or flaws in me but are rather all tied to the same thing, my neurodivergent mind. I still have some shame associated with some of these things that I’ll have to work through, but maybe it’ll be easier now. I foresee additional homework from my therapist.

And yes, I spent most of the day researching this instead of writing an outline for my subplot. Rabbit holes are dangerous to productivity, but at least I know the cause of my procrastination.

In case you’re wondering, here is one of the sources I found doing my research: https://www.additudemag.com/adhd-in-women-misunderstood-symptoms-treatment/

Most of the symptoms I’ve posted here come directly from this article, but I ran across several others with similar findings (I just forgot to save their links as I got distracted). There’s also a self-test at the end of the article. I scored 47 out of 72, which is 65%. Normally this is a failing grade, but the higher your score the greater the likelihood of you having ADD so, in this case, I think I’ll learn to be okay with not acing the test.

Be well my friends.

Last night I experienced two revelations.

I was talking with Tennessee about my struggles writing my subplot. I haven’t been able to start an outline and I just keep putting it off even trying and finding other things to work on like learning the apps for creating a newsletter.

I finally realized that I’m not likely to get anywhere so long as I keep avoiding doing my therapy homework. It was just taking up too much space in my head.  I took today off work with the plan of writing, so I knew that if I was going to get any writing done, even this blog, I needed to do my homework first.

It took literal hours before I picked up my journal to start writing. Eventually I realized maybe I didn’t need to actually write it down. Maybe that piece of fiction didn’t need to be put down in writing at all. So I crawled back into bed and did what I used to as a kid…act out the scenario in my head and have the conversation out loud. (This used to drive my mom crazy. She would open my door and ask, “Who are you talking to?”)

It worked, though it still took a really long time to get through it. And I’m glad only the dogs were here to hear me else I might not have done it. It feels weird, but I feel relieved.

I know that I will never know how he would have really reacted to my coming out to him, but just imagining a possible world where it could have happened in a loving and supportive way where he would not only be happy for me but would encourage a “traditional” wedding this time, when the time was right of course, so that he could walk me down the aisle.

There were tears of loss and grief and sadness all over again, but it was different this time. There was no anger and I feel like that particular wound might actually heal someday.

Speaking of tears, there was also some tearing up last night, this time with happiness. Tennessee asked me how I’d feel if next weekend we had a live in person date. Took me a few moments but then I said, “You’re coming for my birthday party!” I’m pretty sure I bounced in my chair and clapped and squealed in total delight.

I had resigned myself to having to wait until June to see her again so I am very excited she will be here on Saturday, just in time for the birthday party my friends are throwing me. She has been in cahoots with several of my friends trying to plan the surprise. I will be giving them some grief for keeping secrets from me, but only in a loving, grateful, and teasing way.

I would have been so thrilled to see her walk in the front door with the friend who picked her up at the airport, but I’m glad she decided to tell me. Not for my sake but for my mom’s, which is exactly the reason she decided to tell me. Ultimately she worried that my mother would be upset about not having had time to get the house clean enough for company.

For the record, the only space in our house that is not always ready for company is my room. However, that is not what my mother thinks, and she would not have been happy, so I’m glad I know in time to give her a head’s up.

Also I get to bask in the anticipation of seeing Tennessee get off the escalator at DIA. I can’t wait!