Author: Angel Beldam

I ran across a creator on TikTok, ameliadashrose, who does this whole rant about how we need to rebrand baby gay to feral fruit. It is hard to tell if she’s really serious or if her tongue is firmly in her cheek, but it is very funny and pretty on point.

I left a comment about my loving the phrase because of its accuracy but I didn’t want to have to change my username and blog name. She very kindly liked it and had no further response.

Here’s the thing though. She is not the only creator I’ve encountered that objects to this label while mindlessly scrolling through TikTok. There is one in particular whose post I wish I had pinned because now I can’t find it to give her credit. When I watched it, I thought she has a point but I kept scrolling.

Now, however, it’s rattling around in my head. She was very serious in her objection to the terms baby gay and late in life. She did not have an alternative like the creator mentioned above but was adamant in letting us know she was not a baby and that she wasn’t late. She was exactly where and when she was supposed to be.

I understand the objections to those labels or any label. I also agree that I’m not really late to the party. I had lessons to learn first, so I too was right on time. I wouldn’t be the person I am now or have the people in my life I have now if I had discovered who I am earlier.

My life is not perfect, but it is mine and I feel like I am exactly where and when I’m supposed to be. This also means I get to chose which labels I want.

So with all due respect to those ladies, I am fully embracing my Baby Gay and LILLES labels. They helped me find and define myself. Someday down the road they won’t fit any more and I’ll let them go, but for now, I am comfortable here.

Be well my friends.

The last couple of blogs have been serious and kind of a bummer. However, it’s Friday and I’m feeling dramatic, but in a fanciful way. Whimsical maybe?

So today it’s Ode to a Coffee Cup.

For Christmas I got this lovely pink coffee mug with my initial on it. I’ll leave you to guess who gave me such a sweet gift.

To any outsider who sees it, they are not likely to see anything special about it. It’s your standard mug, not a cup at all. Dishwasher safe, microwave safe. There’s even another one in the cupboard just like it except it’s a boring white.

So why does it feel magical when I look at it? When I drink the nectar of the gods from it, I feel the promise of a wonderful day. Granted I feel this promise often enough because its powerful stuff. Life giving in fact.

But in this particular mug that life giving liquid feels infused with love and luck too. I feel as though I can conquer the day, the world even; that nothing can hold me back from my joy, from my bliss.

When I set my eyes upon my mug, hold it in my hand, contemplate its very essence, my soul smiles. And I know it’s gonna be a good day.

Not bad for a humble coffee mug.

Be well my friends

In my blog yesterday I asked how I managed to get this late in life before encountering a narcissist. The answer, which my therapist helped me find, is twofold.

First, I most likely did encounter them when I was younger but didn’t know how to recognize them or they weren’t fully developed yet. This makes sense and I was ok learning this.

The second part is harder to digest because it exposes a flaw in me. When I am in a relationship my world shrinks to the other person. I was 22 years old when I got married to my best friend. He was smart and kind and safe. And he was my whole world until my son come along and my world expanded to three.

My friends were my husband’s friends, my activities revolved him or my son. Eventually a co-worker entered my bubble and has been my best friend for over 20 years. I also reconnected with my childhood bestie and only these 2 friends (neither one a narcissist) survived the implosion of my marriage, and the years of self-discovery before I came out and started dating.

During the self-discovery I became a Buddhist and was surrounded by people who were very self-aware and working on being the best, most honest versions of themselves. Not a narcissist in sight.

Then I started dating and found my first long term girlfriend and along comes covid so once again my world shrunk down to her world, with only my bestie, who lives in another state, still managing to be a part of it. That relationship ended in part because she felt smothered by me.

Things are different now. I have reconnected or deepened some friendships and developed many new ones, some of which overlap, some which don’t. And because my girlfriend doesn’t live here, I am getting to know her without shrinking my world to just her, which is way healthier.

All this is to say that the reason I am encountering narcissists now is because I’m out doing things with my friends and making new friends and acquaintances. There are actually people in my life which ups the odds of meeting narcissists. Lucky me.

Now I just need to learn how to better recognize them, a skill I’m way behind on learning and at this age they’ve gotten very good at hiding who they are. Thankfully my circle of friends helped protect me before, I trust they’ll help again. Lucky me.

Be well my friends.

Breakups really suck, whether it’s a love relationship or a friendship. (For those of you not my girlfriend, don’t worry, this is not about her. We’re still doing good.)

I really value my friendships so when one comes to an end, it makes me sad. I know the adage says friends for a season, a reason, and a lifetime is a truth, but it really doesn’t make it any easier.

Does it make me a bad person that I prefer the breakups that happen slowly and quietly through neglect? Where you both realize your priorities and interests are different and you just put your energy into those things and the friendship just fades, no fuss no muss?

Sadly, not the case with this most recent breakup. I did try to quietly distance myself, but the other person didn’t cooperate. I realized too late that this person is toxic; another narcissist that wouldn’t let go of someone they’ve been able to manipulate.

How did I manage to go fifty years avoiding narcissists and then getting entangled with two in one year? I guess I was past due. I need to get better at recognizing them, though they are really good at hiding it.

The lesbian community is not that big, so avoiding this person is going to be even harder than the other because we still have mutual friends. I dread future encounters and hope that the interactions are civil.

I am much better at conflict then I used to be because my boundaries and needs are worth fighting for, but it still sucks. My wish for you and me is that all our friendships are healthy and those that aren’t quietly fade away.

Be well my friends.

When I went to bed last night, I was feeling very unsettled.

Two more mass shootings and so many awful headlines in the news, a friend I was supposed to meet up with had to cancel because a family member was in the hospital, my mom got more test results in (nothing new just more confirmation) and my kid tells me if something happened to me he’d do his best to look after mom but he can’t take care of himself yet.

The only person I said anything to was my girlfriend and I didn’t even mention all the specifics. I was so tired last night, and it wasn’t just my body.

However, I’m feeling very loved and cared for this morning.  I woke up before my alarm to see my girl had left me a video of Kathy Mattea’s song “A few Good Things Remain”.  That was so sweet. I not only felt cared for but heard.

Apparently though she wasn’t the only one listening.

I also got a text of a funny meme from one friend. Then tagged by another friend on FB with a ‘writer’s make friends with the voices in their head’ meme. When the alarm goes off, Spotify’s random song is “You’re not Alone” by Allison Russell and Brandi Carlile. And to top it all off, when I go to make my coffee, there’s a note from my mom reminding me there’s leftover pancakes and bacon for breakfast.

It is going to be a good day.

Be well my friends.

Yesterday was a great day full of friends and fun. The tea party was amazing. The location, a beautiful Victorian mansion called the Lumber Baron Inn and Gardens, was spot on. The tea and food were very good also.

But what made it special was the people who were there sharing the experience with me. The birthday girl, her wife, our mutual friends, and a new friend or two, well met. Everyone was dressed up in varying levels of fancy finery and the hats were stunning! Our section of the tearoom was filled with lively conversation and lots of laughter. It was truly delightful.

Afterward a few of us went to a friend’s house to watch the Cowboys and 49ers battle it out for a shot to go to the NFC Championship. Now I’m a Bronco fan through and through (condolences to us all for our horrible year) but my friend’s obsession of the 49ers is something I can fully support.

The fancy dress was replaced by red and gold by the hosts in full, in part by the others and I was lent a lovely pair of socks. It was a great game (a real nail biter), we ate great hot wings (thank you Georgia), and we shared more laughter.

And thanks to the win, we get to do it again next weekend, except I doubt there’ll be any fascinators.

Be well my friends.

Today I’m going to an event I have never done before…High Tea. It’s to celebrate the birthday of a good friend. The invite said fascinator or hats strongly encouraged.

I suspected I knew what a fascinator was but had to Google it. I consulted my friend about whether to choose the hat or the outfit first and learned the hat always comes first and you build the outfit around it.

So I went online and there were so many options and price ranges. Some were outrageously expensive but so beautifully made. Real works of art, but definitely not in the budget. I found two affordable yet still quite lovely fascinators as possible candidates on Etsy. Here they are:

The search through my closet produced a couple of options for suitable outfits, but only one was feasible for a day where it will barely be barely above freezing.

It’s been a long time since I’ve dressed up and I’ve never worn a fancy hat, but I’m looking forward to it and to being with my friends. I can’t wait to see them all dressed up.

After the tea party, I’m headed to the house of one of those friends to watch playoff football. We’ve been joking how funny it’ll be for us to watch the game in all our finery.

I’ll let you know how it turns out tomorrow.

Be well my friends.

As if I needed further proof that my mother does not understand me, the Universe was kind enough to provide another interaction. I was chatting with my mom about nothing while we were watching TV and a commercial was on.

We were both on our phones and I came across a writing prompt. “If you could uninvent anything, what would it be?” I read this to mom and said, “the Patriarchy”. I was only half joking.

Imagine my surprise when she asked, “What is that?”  

Um, how does one explain to a 76-year-old woman what the Patriarchy is in the 20 seconds left of the commercial break? I said something like, “It’s our whole system-you know men who run the world?”

She says, “You are so weird.” Then the show was back on.

WTF! OMG! This explains so much and makes me a bit mad at my dad and myself. Him for perpetuating; me for not realizing.

What do I do now? She has way more important things on her mind right now. A lecture from me on the ravages of the Patriarchy will not add value to her life.

It’s not as if she is unaware of the fact that men run the world, I don’t think. It’s more a matter of most women of her generation just accepted it as fact. That coupled with her growing up in Chile, where the Patriarchy is even worse than here, even now, and it’s not really all that shocking. Or at least it shouldn’t be.

So why am I still so baffled?

I guess it’s because despite having known her for more than 50 years I realize there’s still so much about her I don’t know. Perhaps it’s time to remedy that.

Be well my friends.

Apologies for the short post. Big feelings happening this morning.

There are significant changes taking place in my life. I’m not ready to talk about specifies publicly yet but the feelings are almost overwhelming, so I need to process them, and writing helps with that.

This is all about beginnings and endings so there is joy and sadness and fear-lots of fear. Why is there fear for both? It’s the unknown right?

For a new beginning, there’s no way to know if it will work out, or last, or be as joyful and amazing as it is now. In fact, I know that last bit can’t be…these wonderful feelings are not sustainable at the levels they are now.

For the ending, will it be soon or years from now, will there be pain or suffering? Please don’t let there be pain and suffering.

Either way the anxiety hurts mostly me and will only cause tension in my relationships.

Since anxiety is worrying about what might be, I know the solution is to stay in the here and now and just breathe… just be. So this is me, breathing and being.

Be well my friends.

A handful of ‘gaybies’, as one of my friends calls them, brought me to tears last night. I was on a zoom chat for a new book club with some of the members of a FB group I belong to. The book we were discussing was Glennon Doyle’s “Untamed”.

The host asked for initial feelings about the book and several of the very young people started criticizing the book, the author, her story, and her writing style. I get it, to some degree, as they are not the target audience. I, and others like me, are her target. Many of the things they denigrated about the book were the very things I connected to the most.

I felt personally attacked because Glennon’s story is my story; substitute some minor details like binge eating for bulimia, subtract the world famous gold medal winning soccer player wife and career as a published author, and add more years and pounds, and you basically have my life. To paraphrase my friend, I could have written many of those chapters word for word.

So much rang true for me: being tamed since childhood and fighting to be wild, the religious trauma, the falling in love with an amazing woman who will not let me be right and in control all the time, the wanting to make the world a better place. All of it. And to hear those youngsters (what an obnoxious and condescending word) trash my life hurt like hell.

I almost let them silence my story, but I’ve done my own work at un-taming myself and I spoke up. I said I really liked the book and that’s my life and you are icking all over it.  Turns out I was not alone. I think my being so obviously upset shifted the course of the discussion and the others who liked or related to it entered the conversation making it a much more balanced discourse.

I envy how much more comfortable the younger generations are taking up space and not being tame than my generation is. I’m also very glad that they may be the ones to move us from barely tolerated to truly accepted (another borrowed phrase from my wise friend), but it doesn’t hurt to remind them that they have the suffering of previous generations to be grateful for.

Be well my friends.