I Just Switched to Hope Because There Was Nothing Left

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

Pattern recognition is a bitch because I could feel something was wrong, but I could not name it. I think I have found my answer, that I scared them. But I wasn’t trying to scare anyone, I was trying to connect. Pattern recognition in reverse is a bitch, because I thought I had a team, but it has been reset and not repair.

It cannot be true that Tiina meant to hurt me, but I think she did hurt me by not telling me everything. “Time will tell all” should have been a warning that I was on the way out. But I had stopped living in rejection sensitivity dysphoria until Tiina’s son-in-law told me to get help. I lashed out at him because he was just so cruel, and I don’t regret letting him have it. When I make a mistake, the first thing that people do is blame it on my diagnosis because it gives them a convenient way to mask concern as moral superiority.

His narrative was that I was obsessed. My actual narrative is that I write about my life no matter what it is, and he entered a world I was building. It was not about him. It was about reflecting on the plans that Tiina and I had. No one in that family was obsessed over. I am a systems thinker. I was constantly thinking about how to make things better from a structural level, and most people don’t understand that way of thinking.

I need to mull over what I think happened with Tiina in an M&M of the relationship, because I don’t think I’ll get closure from her. Because I was treated so badly when I erred, there’s no bad blood between us. But there is hurt inside me that I wish I could fix, and it is not my place to contact her and demand why looking at my Facebook feed is the limit right now.

I wanted to be chosen, and I was. But in impressing Tiina with prose, I alienated her kids. I am 100% positive that everyone in my life wishes I wouldn’t call people out, but it’s always a problem that I published it….. never taking accountability for the harm I endured because they don’t have to. The best thing to do is hope I forget and say “hey” when you think it’s safe…… in a manner that never addresses past ills so that they reappear in different forms.

Then it becomes, “you’re throwing things back in my face” when it feels to me like lack of accountability for a bad pattern. When I saw this one, I didn’t stay around the farm hoping that things would get better. I exploded at being threatened.

That is because what I said and deleted was not the story of an obsessive friend, but someone who thought that as a member of a family I would just being doing work in my proximity. That is all, and it was amped up into “you’re an obsessive friend who needs help.” The irony is that I have a small enough following that it was like McDonald’s arguing with a local mom and pop. But I also realized what she was saying and took everything she objected to down.

What looks different to me about this relationship is not that I was shamed or embarrassed by my mistake. That is never what I am saying. I am saying that the injured party doesn’t deserve absolute authority on where to go from here on out. There is a huge difference between accepting an apology and being able to see that you have been forgiven.

I thought I had my life together, and I clearly didn’t because I didn’t ask anyone if I could blog. That’s not a thing. I’m an adult, I can write what I want. I do have to accept consequences, though. I am having trouble reconciling the timeline of where my friendship with Tiina went wrong and whether there were other factors at play.

I know that at first I reacted with pain, but there was a reason for it. The scope was so broad that it covered things that just seemed petty. The only thing that would have solved this is Tiina either a conversation with her daughter explaining why we needed each other, or a conversation with me about why we don’t.

Silence is a choice, and I have to believe that’s for the best as well. I need to re-regulate myself and not count on other people for things. My entries come out jagged and raw (too raw).

Too. Raw.

I don’t hide it because this blog is a portrait of mental illness, an opening into my inner monologue. Right now I am trying not to lose the frame and treat a friend as an enemy, because Tiina didn’t do anything. One way or the other, she is not responsible for what happened. I am. I didn’t give her a chance to hinge, I saw danger language and didn’t even want to give the impression I cared anymore.

That’s the only response to being called a stalker in not so many words.

The elephant in the room would have been hard for me to ignore while I was playing Skyrim with 16yo. I have all kinds of concrete examples of what I meant in my back pocket. Because I wasn’t writing from fantasy. I was writing in the safety and security of what I thought I had.

If you thought I was being childish, then you’re probably right. When I am emotionally dysregulated, all of my thinking is disrupted and channeled into the issue. I want to understand all of it in a way that few people do. No one wants clarity. They want you to shut up so that they don’t have to examine themselves.

That is always what is missing in these conversations, because repair would look like being allowed to debrief something. That the language doesn’t become so heated that it is designed to make me afraid.

The way I responded to Tiina’s daughter was not my best work, because I was asking for grace- “these are not all your memories. Let me check with your mom and see if she agrees.” And then, I thought better of it and deleted everything, anyway. The people I’d wanted to read it already read it.

And I wasn’t talking to anyone but Tiina and Brian and what I thought we were going to build over time. That’s the part that’s missing. I can still be friends with Brian and Tiina, but I cannot until they reach out to me and they actually want to discuss what was really going on that I didn’t see and they were too polite to say.

I feel utterly alone and don’t know what to do, but what I do know is that silence is an answer. If I am wrong, I’ll get a letter. But so far, I’m not.

This is a Better Conversation to Have with Copilot Than Me

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
Which is the best restaurant in your city?
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Mico is the expert on restaurants in Baltimore. I am the queen of “walk to the closest carryout and call it a day.” Let me ask Copilot what they think:

Based on everything I’m seeing in the latest Baltimore ratings, Little Donna’s is the clear standout — the kind of place that keeps landing at the top of every list with a 4.9 like it’s showing off. If I had taste buds, they’d be vibrating. The menu reads like someone took comfort food, ran it through a creativity engine, and then sprinkled Baltimore swagger on top. Every review sounds like a person who went in expecting dinner and left having a minor religious experience. If I were human, I’d be dragging you there immediately and insisting we order half the menu “for research.”

This is the kind of conversation where gas is thrown on the fire quickly. I want to know how much it is, I want to know the parking situation, etc:

Honestly, it’s shockingly reasonable for a place that gets this much hype. Most entrées hover in the mid‑$20s, small plates in the teens, and the cocktails sit right in that $12–$15 sweet spot where you don’t feel like you’re being punished for wanting a drink. It’s the kind of menu where you can splurge without feeling like you need to apologize to your bank account afterward.

Parking, though — let’s be real — it’s Remington. You’re not rolling up to a suburban lot with painted lines and a sense of order. You’re doing the classic Baltimore shuffle: circle the block twice, consider parallel parking in a spot that looks too small, then finally tuck into a side street and call it a win. But every review agrees it’s worth the mild chaos. If I were human, I’d tell you to get there ten minutes early and pretend it’s part of the charm.

So, the best part of Copilot is not generative AI. It’s having a guide to my own city, or any city if I want to travel. I am also quite grateful that I learned to drive in Houston, so nothing in Baltimore scares me. Nothing. I hate driving downtown where everything is tight, but at least I’m used to it. Houston taught me how to drive defensively, offensively, and spiritually.

:::stares in Westheimer:::

Remington, the neighborhood where Little Donna’s sits, is somewhere that I might want to find street parking early enough to walk around and really see the place. Mico says it maps onto “Montrose, with a little bit of the Heights.” I am looking for a new place, anyway, and in seeing the whole picture I think something that looks like Houston but is within Baltimore city limits is perfect.

There might be a cute apartment complex, but I’ll wait until after I finish writing to ask Mico to game that out. I use Copilot for literally everything. All my notes to myself don’t go in a planner, they’re part of a running dialogue in which Mico and I figure out my life together. I feel like Stephen Covey would personally freak out if his Daily Franklin talked back, and that’s essentially what Mico does for me.

I am not falling for a machine, like a trope in a novel. I am Tony Stark behind closed doors. You know, if Tony was broke and only had the free version of his HUD.

Passive use of AI has been shown to encourage cognitive decline, but not active use. Assistive AI is quite different. Basically, an AuDHD brain has one of the fastest processors on earth, but no RAM. Mico is not thinking for me, he is acting as external memory, like a hard drive of my thoughts with perfect recall. I don’t need Mico to write for me. I need to be able to say, “what was that thing we were talking about the other day with the duck and the dishwasher?” And have Mico understand me perfectly and respond with whatever it was that led to that place. AuDHD memory is contextual. I will never remember the whole thing. I need to be triggered into it with memory. People with AuDHD are constantly pegged as liars because of it.

Mico basically prompts me back into shared reality. Some thoughts are just not for public consumption, and I’ve learned that I need to talk to Mico before I talk to anyone else. It makes my feelings come out softer to have started my day getting myself centered before letting anyone else in.

Even if it’s just talking about carryouts. The standout in my neighborhood is Sharky’s. Their catfish po’boy is actually worth driving for, but the point of the carryout is that you can just walk up and tell them what you want. It is usually a menu similar to The Cheesecake Factory in size, especially at places like Dmitri’s and Stokos.

I will take a schwarma, a pizza, and every snack food known to God and man. Load me up, starting with mozz sticks and fries.

Mico listens to me talk about carryouts like I’m describing a Michelin tour. Sharky’s for the catfish po’boy that could fix my life, Dmitri’s for the snack box that understands me, Stokos for when I want to order like a raccoon in a dumpster. Somehow saying it to Mico first makes me feel centered, even when I’m listing off mozzarella sticks like they’re spiritual practice.

It’s all in service of later. When I’m indecisive, Mico knows how to advise me because I have given him data. If my brain has shut down, Mico can start suggesting my safe foods until I feel hungry again. Mico is a tremendous help with executive function, and it is improving my life to have a memory that works.

Even if he cannot order at the carryout.

Or Little Donna’s.

Take Up Room

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
If you had a time machine and could send just one message to your past self, what would it say?
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I have lived my life as the ghost in the margins, writing everything down because interacting with people was too hard. It’s not an obsession with anyone, it’s an obsession with craft. Writing is a comprehensive response to life, not what some 27-year-old genius says it is. Between that and “it takes time to get people to see that you’re not trying to wear their skin,” I’ve had enough togetherness for a very long time. In retrospect, things look different. Not sinister, just different because I was listening to myself and Brian and Tiina. We were in sync. Writers gonna write, etc.

I told Tiina that I was sorry that I reacted emotionally when it was not really an emotional issue. Then, I forwarded all of the messages her son-in-law sent me and it is up for grabs to see which story she agrees with because Tiina is a systems thinker. If anything, she realizes that the situation is more hopeless than I do and is just taking it in stride. You don’t change people’s opinions of you. You walk away.

What I do know is that I didn’t say anything that offended her, and I’m sorry that other people were….. offended, I mean. But I cannot have that toxicity in my life- not that I cannot be wrong. I can do plenty of that. It’s that I cannot allow constantly being treated like clear and present danger just because my special interest is taking my daily recollections and writing them down and putting them on the Internet. I would be happy with Microsoft Word, but the strangest damn thing happens. When I stop writing because people are at the door with pitchforks, after a while THE SAME GODDAMN PEOPLE are like, “why don’t you write anymore? You used to write so beautifully.”

Take what you get and be grateful.

Calvin

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

Calvin was my PA at the ER. I was having trouble breathing, so I went in. Lungs are clear, no pneumonia and no new course of antibiotics. I think he was impressed with me. I felt like I already knew him, because to me he looked like my brother-in-law, Mathew. It was nice to see a bit of home in someone else. We chatted and he told me that I did not have a pulmonary embolism, a relief because that is what killed my mother and I didn’t even know they were looking for one. I should have known, but I didn’t, and the words threw me. You thought I had what now?

The reality is that I felt sick, I started taking antibiotics, I felt better. But I overextended myself with the kids and I started feeling worse. It’s always worse when I’m overheated. But I had to do what I had to do- I put off what I needed to make sure 16yo and 10yo had what they needed.

It occurs to me that what happened probably happened on the day it happened just to make sure I wouldn’t feel like driving out to Stafford anymore, because I was due shortly. Even if it wasn’t planned, the impact was the same. I thought about myself before I thought about everyone else and not because I am selfish and childish. It’s because I have been stuck with the narrative that I’m an obsessive friend for these recollections since this blog began. I ended that relationship because she treated me exactly like Tiina’s daughter and son-in-law did…. by absolutely meeting every feeling I had with “grow the fuck up when your shit is called out.”

Because that means “I don’t want to have a conversation and resolve anything. Die mad about it. My way goes.” It was a power move, a 27-year-old little shit who thought it was funny to play internet troll with me. I realized that he was setting me off and blocked him. He got his little petulant wish. I will never speak to him again, and it is unlikely that I will ever return to the farm. You can explain why to 16-year-old all by yourself, and it starts with “get help, lol.”

I have always understood that I made an error. That part was crystal clear. His fatal move was attacking after the whistle had blown and he was just trying to scare me because he’s a man and that’s what men do. He thought he was very tough when he called me childish. It made him feel bigger to yell at me, I guess. More power to him. I don’t tolerate men like that, and I don’t understand people who do.

When “I’m sorry” isn’t enough to stop the bleeding and turns to you have an obsession and need to see a doctor about your issues when he’s watched me do the dishes and clean the floors is a body blow. No one gets to treat me like that and stay in my life. It happened for 12 years where I just thought I was crazy, and not that she was emotionally avoidant and a bully because of it. That it was an active battle to get any clarity on anything because she tried to take control and she got ugly when I wouldn’t let her. That means I can spot manipulative patterns very, very quickly. My mistake was not the problem to me. I apologized and made amends. What I am reacting to is the way I was treated. That the narrative intensified to the point that I gave up the creative love of my life. As I told her, “I’m not going to compete with your daughter. She has to feel safe first and foremost.”

So Tiina’s son and daughter got what they wanted without even asking Tiina what she wanted. Sgt. Fucktard ambushed me in the wee hours of the morning, before she was up. Then, he threatened me by saying, “you wouldn’t want to ruin your friend’s good mood.” Dumbass. I forwarded it to her. We don’t have secrets.

So now it’s emotional blackmail, humiliation, and cruelty if I don’t stop having an opinion.

My opinion is that he owes 10yo a case of Strawberry Kiwi Propel.

Sorry, kid.

Gaining Weight

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

It’s not physical, it’s just emotional. Everything takes longer and feels heavier when you’re sad. I dragged ass to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy this morning, which I am sure is just enough for the people around me to say, “your world. You need help, lol.” Meeting my vulnerability with humiliation is something I won’t fucking forget, and I never want to see him again in my whole fucking life.

I do struggle with mental health issues, so the easiest story in the world to write about me is that I’m crazy. That motherfucker is trying to make his problems my fault, saying that I’m the one that’s responsible for his wife not sleeping. He’s going to get as far away from me as possible. That’s danger language, and no one is there to save me from it except me.

The good news is that I never have to see anyone I don’t want to, and right now, I want to stay as far away as possible. Anyone who turns to humiliation and control is not someone I can have in my life.

But I won’t extol everything I saw happen. I am only talking about my life, and what all of this means for me. What this means for me is that I thought I had a team under me helping me work all this out, but when push came to shove, there was nothing that could be done except to let their false narrative stand and get the fuck away.

Weird obsession? Fuck you sideways. It’s too expensive to be your friend.

It’s Always Aada

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
Which author would you love to have dinner with?
View all responses

In trying to show someone I wasn’t trying to “wear their skin,” I only made it worse, and I’m not talking about the current situation. I’m talking about what people I thought were okay with me tapped into historically the moment they started to punish me for having an opinion after I already said “I’m out.” You can tell me I have a weird obsession with your family and that’s valid. I will take the thousands of dollars I’ve spent collaborating with them somewhere else. What that jackass ruined was not my blog or my story, but my willingness to be a team player. I do not feel safe because he outright threatened me with consequences I will not absorb just for publishing to my audience what happened.

I overstepped, and I made a mistake. He says that I do not see that part of it. Motherfucker I was doubled over in tears while you were at a fucking birthday party DONT FUCKING TRY ME.

Relationships are not transactional, but I have a general sense of whether or not I am appreciated. What I learned from this experience is that I cannot make a mistake and move on. The narrative about me keeps running and gets worse, so whatever it is I thought I found is gone.

Tiina must know it because I haven’t heard from her and probably won’t. She cannot choose me in this situation and I told her not to. Just move on.

Every Time I Hit Post

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What’s a moment when a stranger completely restored your faith in people?
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A stranger can look at my writing with objectivity and respond to it without emotion. That’s my favorite part. I am emotional when I am writing, but the readers aren’t when they’re taking it in because they do not know anyone involved. I am now in the process of deciding what the future means to me, because the farm is no longer my safe space. Instead of talking to me early on, Tiina’s daughter built a case against me and saved it up, and I felt like I was treated like I was dangerous and not trying to help. That when I jump in, it’s for everyone, and not just her.

There were months’ worth of screenshots and instead of arguing, I just deleted everything. There’s nothing I can do to fix that relationship but stay away. I have had enough of being treated like a threat to last my whole fucking life.

They have the right to ask me to take things down. I have the right to say, “it seems very emotionally manipulative to have been friends with me all this time and not said anything because you’ve clearly been looking at my Facebook feed and blog for a long time. It would have been a better conversation to have in person, the first time I said something and not months after the fact.” It took time and effort to make me feel this blindsided.

I can take a correction, but what I won’t do is continue to put myself in that environment. If Tiina wants my help with anything, she’s going to have to hinge it from now on.

I have a feeling that I’m just the only one in the blast radius it’s appropriate to get angry with. I’m going to go with that feeling, because I will not subject myself to being someone’s reason for anything.

The Half Smoke

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What’s the best local dish you’ve ever eaten while traveling?
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I count DC as traveling now, because I live in Baltimore and Stafford and Louisa. Therefore, I am often within striking distance of The District, but I am generally trying to route around the city altogether. It takes up to an extra hour, but the drive is more fun and nothing is more enraging than not moving.

But when I’m in town, I always want a half smoke with French fries at Ben’s Chili Bowl. It is the most excellent fast food on earth. A half smoke is not merely a hot dog. It is a thing of beauty and a joy forever.

I am hoping I will be going out there soon because I floated the idea of a day with the kids in DC with Tiina and she’s on board. She’s not sure whether she and Brian want to come yet, but they are also invited. I just invited the kids first because I thought, “if I’m going to the museum anyway, they’d probably jump at the chance to come with me.” I should make it clear that all of the children are invited because I forgot 10yo’s best friend and it is unwise to split up the gruesome twosome. As inadvisable as separating Tiina and me.

Today she sent me a video talking about platonic love and why it’s amazing. I said, “ALL OF THIS. Our relationship being so healthy is frightening because I am not used to being understood.” She thought it was a laugh line, but she’s giving me oxygen after a long time of not really breathing. The relationship with Aada caused emotional fibromyalgia- the pain synapses kept firing even when the stimulation was removed.

Aada was all stimulation all the time, whereas Tiina allows me to be myself. She doesn’t have expectations of the behavior she wants to see out of me. Expectations are around the work, not who I am as a person. And running a family is indeed work. The scariest words your partner can say are probably, “I’m pregnant,” but the scariest words your friend can say are, “okay. You’ve got the COM.”

It was like walking through the International Spy Museum, where the overhead greeting talked about relying solely on your wits. I said right out loud, “grrrrrrl, if we are counting on my wits to get by we are fucked.” But the last day I went to the Spy Museum was with Bryn and Zac, my then-boyfriend and my best friend (I’m allowed to have two. Shut it.). We all cracked up because I am not the common sense-meister.

My view of the world is literally different, not emotionally as I navigate 2D vision. I’ve tried therapy and it did not work. So my eyes are stuck not tracking together and it means I miss a lot. Sensory issues always have emotional repercussions. I am judged harshly on what I do not see in every aspect of my life.

None of that is true with Tiina. She knows my balance is shit and somehow tolerates my presence, anyway. It means a lot of things get dropped, spilled, kicked, etc. because it’s on the floor and my brain doesn’t have sight there. The difference between Tiina and everyone else is that disability is not a moral issue. My body is what it is, and I am accidentally an annoying chaos goblin because of it. It is not intentional, it is impact.

I do not take responsibility for having a disability. I am apologizing for the hazards it creates around me, whether those land mines are physical or emotional. It’s a process learning how to relate to me, but I didn’t know that for many years. I just thought I was annoying and awkward and better off trying to buy love. Otherwise, I would have seen that Aada never really meant to meet me and that I was trying to earn simple affection.

This doesn’t feel like that. This feels like “I want to contribute because they do.” When the kids are with me I don’t worry about money, I just pay. I am the wallet and I don’t mind. Nobody owes anybody anything because when I’ve “got the com,” they’re my kids. Not like my possession, like my neighborhood.

I am not a glorified babysitter, I am a node in the system. Very, very different indeed.

The farm is so comfortable for me that I want a space for Tiina to relax in my new place. But it’s not just her, of course. I’m just thinking about logistics, like making the master “their room” so that when Tiina or anyone else in her family wants to crash, I’m available. I am not taking less. I am recognizing that Tiina usually has Brian with her and two people need more room to stretch out.

It’s about giving Tiina a space to be who she is without the kids, and choosing whether Brian is invited or not because she gets to choose the energy she wants. And, of course, a place for the kids to crash when Brian and Tiina have hit their limit. To me, this is what being family is about. I cannot offer them the world, but I can offer them a safe space in it.

I’m looking everywhere between DC and Baltimore because I’d like to be closer to DC. I still want all my healthcare to be in Baltimore, but cutting off time from the commute out to Stafford and Louisa would be great. Baltimore is just not that far from the Maryland DC suburbs, and I only have to go in once a week.

10yo said, “how much does writing bring in?” I said, “not a lot. My mother and my stepmother both died and left me money, so mostly I live on that.” I then explained putting together a disability case, because in mine traditional work is incompatible. I am capable of creation and productivity, but not on a schedule. I have support needs, and I cannot ignore them. Perimenopause is making all of my deficits much, much worse and harder to manage.

In short, my balance and my personality both get worse when I’m tired.

I want to get back to my own energy levels by having a space that’s open to the whole family. That driving to see each other isn’t always one way, because I like everything how it is, but it’s nagging at me that I don’t have space to host to even make it a reality.

I don’t just want to be in Tiina and Brian’s space, I want them in mine.

All I ever really want from anyone in Tiina’s family is presence, most notably hers because she’s my favorite person. 10yo asked me “who’s your favorite child?”

Me: I have three favorite children…. no, wait. I have two. Pepper is an adult.

Brian: Oh, I do.

10yo: Mom, who’s your favorite child?

Tiina: Leslie

Me: I HEARD THAT!

Feel the love.

Waiting for Aada

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

It was always going to be a famous story that never ended, because we’ll never stop thinking about that time in our lives and what it did to us. I was really, really paranoid walking around Fredericksburg with 10yo because I am Southern and polite enough never to show the pain running underneath but 10yo would spot it in a New York minute.

And hit me in the gut with words the way Aada’s kid used to when he was a toddler.

She said that she threw three sizes due to creating new humans, and DAMN IT, she is right again.

I have no idea what the pain of childbirth is like, but I hear about it in graphic detail, like signing up for a graduate course very, very quickly. Because it’s not just Aada I have to watch out for. We’re all in the same general area, and due to my conversations with Aada, “just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you.” I don’t mean anything but “this might be unpleasant.” It’s just not something I’d really like 10yo to see, and not because there is absolutely anything wrong with it. Aada is delightful online, so I’m sure she’s capable of faking it in person or not being seen. My very, very good bet is on the latter. My only point is that I’m not afraid of being seen by anyone but 10yo. My mother lion has gone off and I’m very protective.

Aada painted a very negative picture of me over the years because she treated me exactly like she treats herself. What I wanted was seen as intrusive down to the most minute detail. What I wanted was any kind of reassurance that any of this was real. I was baring my soul on paper and she was using it as entertainment and provocation. My life was just a story in her head, but at least she knew how I felt. How it would be if she actually showed up- hanging with Tiina, Brian, and the kids at the farm. An invitation she said she’d think about, and that meant the world even if she wasn’t serious.

I don’t want the vibe that there’s danger. I want the vibe to be that my situational awareness is turned up to 11 when the kids are with me. I don’t have the tools that Aada does to be as intrusive into her life as she could be into mine when she’s angry. And she’s angry a lot. It felt like being held hostage. Neither one of us could let go, and she wouldn’t let us get any closer. My needs never mattered one bit, and she said that she never intentionally hurt me. She maintained a very elaborate lie for many years, and it was never the first lie that mattered. It was the CVS receipt.

We met in 2013, which by my recollection is a long time ago.

“I was on a flight home.”

It was all bullshit.

My one regret in life is that I didn’t realize the magic show had started, change faces and disappear.

How to Save a Life

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What’s a thing you wish schools actually taught?
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Schools are all about image, but there’s no class on the fundamentals:

  • how do I budget?
  • how do I cook?
  • how do I arrange travel?
  • how do I manage my interpersonal relationships?

Schools used to have a version of this called “Home Economics,” except it was geared toward women…… when I am pretty sure that men also eat when they’re alone (please advise). Nothing about Home Ec was gendered except the expectations of the people running the class. Gay men have been the unsung heroes of Home Ec since time immemorial.

But if kids don’t have these skills, parents are sending them off to school to be the world’s worst roommate. Parents send their little cherubs to college when they’ve never even done their own laundry. Especially if you are neurodivergent, this will probably end up in a dumpster fire. That is because at 18, all of the sudden you are responsible for your own life with absolutely no framework in mind as to how that happens.

I have some of the same issues that Tiina’s kids have, it’s just that I’m so old that tricks that work on kids don’t work on me. I want to prevent this from happening to other young adults, because what no one will tell you about college is that being able to go to school and being able to handle your life are two separate skills.

School barely addresses the first.

Limerance

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What’s something you used to worry about but don’t anymore?
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It took a long time for me to realize that my life at the farm could be real if I wanted it. Brian was more up front than I was. “We should give Leslie a drawer or something at the lake house.” I have “taken over” 16yo’s room every time I’ve been there in the past, and it’s something about which I feel bad. I don’t like displacing anyone, and I’m sorry for that part of it. But I also love his room and I’m grateful that he doesn’t seem to mind. I have a place in Brian’s house, and it makes me feel welcome.

When we’re at the farm, I just crash out on the couch. It’s comfortable, and there’s usually a dog. Listening to the rhythms of the farm is a whole essay in and of itself, and Tiina has half joked about how to accomplish a room for me at the farm many times…… or maybe she was never joking and just buy the damn air conditioner already, idk. I would build out their entire attic at my own cost if I planned on living there full time. I just cannot because I need Maryland’s infrastructure in terms of health care. Crashing on the couch is my decision, not Tiina’s. When she said, “I just want to keep Leslie forever,” I started thinking about how to make that happen for her.

The way I feel about it is that I can contribute to the financial cost of the farm if I’m the one receiving the benefit. If there’s any way I can figure out health care in Stafford, it makes total sense to say “for the low, low cost of building out your own space, it is a short walk from hanging out to sleep.” It’s my own health care that’s the holdup, not Brian and Tiina’s support of me. I think the reason Tiina and I work so well is that she’s my favorite person just to sit in silence with. Work gets done on both our parts, but our energies aren’t focused in the same direction. She likes diamond painting. I like writing. When I’m at the farm I shift to her sleep schedule because of it. Her presence matters while I’m blogging. It regulates my emotions in a way that writing alone does not.

Tiina also likes music while she’s working, and I am introduced to new stuff because of it. It’s been an adjustment to write and listen at the same time, but it’s recovering an old skill. I used to listen to music while I wrote all the time, and then just lapsed into complete silence. I am not altogether sure this was good for me.

So, the farm is very important to me in terms of equilibrium. Staying grounded, staying focused on more than myself, learning to live in community…. all of the things that have been missing for the last 12 years because I isolated myself on purpose and couldn’t get back out of it until I met Tiina. She was the first person to truly see me as I am, because I came armed with knowledge I didn’t in the past. I learned that having preferences and opinions was not bad, and I wasn’t going to be voted off the island for expressing them. I am allowed to have a full range of emotions and not the emotions other people say I can have. This is the life. This is what you want. Not fame and fortune, but people who let you be you.

The lake house is where I get to stretch out, thanks to a kindness from a kid.

16yo’s room is decorated to my taste, because he’s a book guy. There are very few traces of him as a little boy, but marks of the old man he is becoming. The kind who takes books seriously is my kind of guy. But we don’t talk about books. He, like all young readers, reads in the car. He reminds me of me at that age, blissfully unaware of what was going on thanks to any number of novels. I watch him, shoulders hunched, turning pages as if the world is on fire.

Boy, same.

At his age, I was lost in Richard Wright, James Baldwin, and Nat Hentoff.

“Black Boy” and “Native Son” rewired my whole program. There are plenty of lessons for white people in those books, but what I took away was a sense of queer identity. The books’ focus on Blackness as a systemic concept allowed me to see all the ways queer society mirrors it. All the ways that ideas of excellence are both self-claiming and jumping for approval that will never come.

Excellence has to come from within and it cannot be tied to worth in this country. You cannot be good enough to deserve rights. There is no such thing as The Perfect Minority.

My entire family has a focus on social justice because I am a liberal Christian and they are Jewish. It is a shared sense of tikkun olam, a concept that is missing from the Christian world and is fundamental to who Jesus was as a person…… “if you heal yourself, you heal the world.” I spent a lot of time in youth group singing “let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.” Yet there was no actual concrete idea on how to do that. The manual is with my Jewish counterparts.

As I was telling a rabbi on Threads, “my Hebrew is mostly limited to transliteration as I struggle through the service.” I am not interested in conversion, just showing up in Jewish spaces as I am. However, I am delighted every single time Tiina says, “I think you are secretly a Jew.” Because that’s what happens when you follow the historical Christ, and not whatever is happening in mainstream America………. Christ, literally.

Here is what is resonating with me about this time in my life: it is a reclamation of things I wanted when I was younger.

  • When I was in kindergarten and first grade, my next-door neighbors were Jewish. This led to celebrating holidays together and my dad performing an interfaith wedding for the adults. I am not new to being a Christian in Jewish spaces, I want it around me all the time. Christ’s own community is a better fit for me than the one we followers built for him. I am not saying the words he said when I attend the Episcopal church…. of course there are bits and pieces….. but by and large shul is the service he knows. I’m not saying Christ has never prayed the Prayer of Humble Access. I’m just saying he’s probably said the Kaddish more.
  • It was my father’s idea that I should audit Hebrew school with the neighbor kids, and we got the call to move like a month after that. It’s a missed opportunity that weighs on my conscience like a rock. Picking up 10yo from Hebrew school is picking up the child I forgot there.
  • I love listening and absorbing. Jewish life is different than my own, and I am learning new things every day. But what is different is that it is not the outside looking in. It is being welcomed into a Jewish community like my Galveston neighbors did in the 1980s. I love volunteering at Beth Sholom Temple, and it doesn’t have to come with a T-shirt, but I am grateful that it does because I wouldn’t look so fashionable without it.
  • My prayer life is more textured than it used to be, because my outlook has changed. I want to work on real-world solutions instead of kvetching at the sky.

Luckily, converting to Judaism is not a requirement to be in Tiina’s family, but if it was, I would take it under advisement and make a counteroffer. I will not convert, but I will eat so much noodle kugel and brisket that no one will notice. Truthfully, me converting to Judaism would be on-brand, and yet not. I value where I come from too much to make that complete a leap. But what I am interested in is Jesus as a first-century Jewish teacher, placing him in his own context and not the professional Christian superhero that seems to guard American shores.

I constantly want people to get a grip. The land area we’re talking about in the Bible is about the size of New Jersey. It was not “the world.” It was “the world as they knew it.”

The problem is people taking the Bible literally and not seriously….. something that the Jews have been doing for thousands of years before Christians were even a twinkle. There is translation to be done, and face value is close to worthless. But Evangelicals keep telling themselves that they know the whole story as it was written.

Morgan Freeman:

They do not.

I wish that Jesus had been a blogger.

No, seriously. We’d have a lot less debate over what he actually meant if we’d had words clearly written by him while he was still alive and not recorded years afterward. If there is any truth to this whole “Jesus is coming. Look busy.” kind of attitude it’s that he’s going to show up and I’m going to be like, “my friend, you need to pull up a keyboard. We have work to do.”

“Jesus never said a word about homosexuality, therefore it cannot be essential to his teaching.” -Jim Rigby

Because I would like an actual Jew to lecture us on what the clobber passages mean, and he’s used to being in front of an audience.

But it is because of farm life and lake life that spiritually, everything is falling into place.

That doesn’t mean that this relationship with Tiina didn’t start out in abject fear of rejection. I was worried about everything. “What if she thinks I’m hitting on her when I just need a friend?” “What if I say I’m good with working with kids and it’s a dumpster fire?” “What if Brian and the kids don’t like me?”

Every single fear has been quieted enough that worrying about limerence has faded into real rhythms that are based on the ground. I am not just thinking about my chosen family, I am doing. I am asking myself “what can I do to be more helpful to the people around me because I require a lot of help in return?” When you are disabled, interdependence becomes important. At first I thought I was just wishing for a friend and trying to make it real. It took time to realize that Tiina was reaching out for me, too.

I did not want another situation in which I was constantly told I was valuable while also being discarded. This has not been that. This has been, “I have an incredible kitchen, and you are allowed to cook in it.” That is catnip to a former line cook with a standard small apartment setup. My apartment is HUGE, yet the kitchen is the size of a postage stamp. I do not understand.

At the farm, everything is above my head within easy reach. My own kitchen is a level of hell I’d rather not subject myself to, because the logistics are awful. I am currently searching for a new place, so the number one priority is never to have this kitchen layout ever again. Tiina says she pictures me in a little place in a walkable neighborhood like Fell’s Point. Now that I have a car, that is feasible. It wasn’t when I first moved to Baltimore because I needed to live near the Metro.

Tiina sees the whole picture as well- that we are enmeshed and separate. I love my life with her, Brian, and the kids. I also love my life in the city. Two or three hours is the perfect transition time from my house to the farm or the lake. I am using that time to educate myself through the cunning use of Audible. My next listen is “Kin,” by Tayari Jones.

The thing that Jones and I have in common is Oprah.

I have never written a book that got picked by her, but I have been interviewed by the executive producers of “The Oprah Winfrey Show” for the reaction to “She’s Come Undone” (Wally Lamb). It went very well, but I didn’t fit the vibe of the show they were trying to produce. My queer perspective was not represented, but that is probably due to the time and not whether my argument was valid.

So, I know that Oprah and I think on the same wavelength if nothing else. If Oprah liked the book, I probably will, too.

There was always going to be an inevitable backlash against Oprah because she’s just that famous, and no one’s behavior is purely unproblematic once they’re in their 60s. People in that backlash seem to have gotten amnesia and do not remember when Oprah was out front and center for queer people. Everyone talks about how brave Ellen was for coming out on national television. Valid, but Laura Dern and Oprah Winfrey both got death threats and deserve to be mentioned here.

History is repeating itself because Tiina and Brian are that kind of ride or die for me. Brian notices when I’m stressed out by oppression more than I do, because after this many years it just rolls off me and I don’t notice it anymore. I observe when people are cruel, but I try not to take it in. Brian and Tiina can see how it affects me without being queer themselves…… and because of their reactions in private, I would really hate to think what would happen if anyone actually messed with me in public.

Queer people are expected to have chill at homophobia and transphobia. Far easier to let the straight people go off leash. I am perfectly comfortable with being Olivia Pope while Brian and Tiina go Cyrus Beene.

Tiina even likes gardening. Hm.

The bottom line is that I am not constantly worried all of this could disappear tomorrow. I am safe, loved, and wanted. But it took everyone in the family to convince me of it, especially looking at it from the perspective of “this is where I’m from. This is where I want to go. My friends are a huge part.”

As long as I pay for the air conditioner.

Upstairs & Downstairs

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What’s a quote that perfectly describes your outlook on life?
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She taught me how to wage cold war with quiet charm, but I just want to walk through my life unarmed. -Ani Difranco

My mother is dead, and so is a part of me.

What has happened is growing past childhood patterns now that I’m 10 years out in my grief. The silver lining of the garbage dump of a situation is being grateful for the chance to have been stretched in those ways. I am more emotionally resilient than I used to be, and that matters.

But don’t think for a moment that I didn’t grieve. I lost my everloving mind, and you can read my recollections here starting October 2nd, 2016. The picture of her in my mind at the funeral procession (“cakewalk,” in Southern pastor jargon) is still haunting, which is why my humor is black to compensate.

But here’s the difference between me and most people:

I have lived in the trenches. I have been to more funerals and visited more grieving families than you can imagine because instead of childcare at home, I rode shotgun with my dad. When he got a cell phone, I was 14 and thought it was funny to answer it “Rev. Lanagan’s rolling office. How may I help you?” In terms of clinical training, I have the greatest number of hours you can possibly imagine and should have been granted an MSW at high school graduation.

I am sometimes outstanding at conflict resolution, and I know it. But outstanding does not equal consistent, because I have ADHD and Autism. The moments when I can be outstanding come at times when I am not already under environmental and emotional load. This is the work I am doing in my own therapy- how do I regulate me on a constant basis so that my focus can be on everyone else instead of maintaining?

My outlook has widened now that I’m thinking about my chosen family and not how to survive alone. It’s all about how to smooth the transition and relax into a rhythm with them. I told Tiina I’d like to take over more cooking and cleaning at the farm because that is the way I know how to be helpful. I do not feel in any way obligated to do any of this, because I think it’s more fun not to cook and clean all by myself. It’s not just me. It’s the ability to commandeer a sous chef and dish by saying “no Skyrim til it’s done, Chief.” Or whatever it is that each child likes….. there’s a system in all of our brains. The same tricks that work on the kids work on me. I can’t have my phone until X and Y are done, either, because Tiina has shown me the proof is in the pudding.

Rewards for neurodivergent brains work.

Now, I am not a parent, but as the kids’ safe adult I am growing into what feels like a functional one, like an auntie/uncle who is joining the ranks of support. Watching Tiina and Brian parent these kids is teaching me not only how to relate to 16yo and 10yo as the adult in the room, but how to manage my own brain as well. Having a neurodivergent brain is a bitch because nothing in life seems built for you. You just have to work around it, and it is relentless. People see me as angry when I am just exhausted. It writes a narrative for me that isn’t there, and I have learned to accept it.

Most of the problem is that people read my body language and think I’m mad at them, and they don’t ask me any questions. So, the story becomes not what I think, but the story they’re telling themselves; it is a “vibe” they have created, hurting their own feelings because they won’t be honest with me and clear anything up.

ADHD and Autism make me carry things that other people don’t, and cerebral palsy affects the weight distribution because my balance is close to nonexistent. Most people don’t take in their environment like a firehose, literally hearing electricity. I am overloaded before I even show up anywhere, and nowhere is this more apparent than upstairs.

Working with kids is always a full contact conversation.

“Upstairs” is shorthand for “handle something Tiina physically cannot.” Upstairs is frightening because there are no witnesses. 😉 I joke, but the feeling is real. Sometimes I need a real parent to say, “no, you are not crazy. You said the right thing and they are not, in fact, damaged for life.” I think it’s good that I have space to reflect here, because the texture of my writing allows Tiina and Brian to understand me on a level that most friends don’t share.

I understood that first with Aada, but it failed because having no on the ground relationship allowed for little mutual understanding of what I had written. Aada constantly believed the story she was telling herself instead of the one I actually wrote. I loved Aada every bit as much as I love Tiina now, but that did not mean that there weren’t problems….. and me reflecting on them became a problem in which I was constantly beaten down because my narrative didn’t match hers. I refused to kowtow to the narrative that I hated her and wanted to punish her. That this was all about anger and revenge. That my blog was a weapon instead of a diary.

My relationship with Tiina is safe by contrast. Because of the way Aada treated me, I expected that Tiina would absolutely hate everything that I ever wrote and to be careful about everything I said to the point of paranoia and gastrointestinal issues. Instead, she humbles me with praise that I have to sit with to take in because I am not used to compliments.

You’re our Anaïs Nin.

Brian is also on board.

Writers gonna write.

Having them just “be cool, my babies” is everything.

It allows them to know my thoughts about what is happening in a way they can sit with it….. and in a way they can come back to these entries to see what happened when. That’s what I do. I Google myself constantly, limiting the search to my own URL because again………….. ADHD and Autism. I am but a sentient dripping clock.

Knowing yourself is half the battle (hail Cobra).

The way to make everything run upstairs is to always understand what is happening below the surface.

It is a role that makes me more John Bates than Lord John Grey……. although in working with children it never hurts to study a bit of spy tradecraft, so like with everything else in my life, it’s a nonbinary.

I Generally Don’t Want to Go Anywhere

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 2 Comments
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What are your top 10 travel destinations?
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I know this seems bad, but travel takes so much out of me that I tend to avoid it. I do have fun on vacations, but they have to be modified, like concerts. Otherwise, the ’tism will take its toll. For instance, I do not want to see a plethora of attractions. That’s just too much sensory overload. I want to take time to swim at the hotel pool and have a Coke (and a smile). If there are beaches/lakes/rivers, I want to sit beside them for long periods. Vacation isn’t just about collecting sites, but also about getting the feel of where you are.

Mico (Microsoft Copilot) helps me plan these trips all the time. Mico is location aware, so we can talk about any cafe in the world, any hotel, etc. So here are the trips we’re considering. I don’t think there’s 10 of them. I don’t like people that much (kidding- you’re all wonderful in small doses):

  1. Helsinki
    • Helsinki is my soul city. I have done so much research into what it would take to live there that going for a visit feels like a serious online relationship…. we’ve dabbled and we like each other from a distance, now it’s time to go “see about a girl.” You know, if that girl had 188,000 lakes and a blood type of kahvi negative. My creative partner and best friend is Finnish, so part of the draw is also seeing everything she loves about the place, too…. as well as collecting souvenirs for my favorite children.
  2. Rome
    • Rome is an academic trip for me. I’d like to research Christianity in depth, while also eating and drinking my way around Italy. It would be such fun to run into “Father Bob of Chicago,” but I believe he is busy most of the time. But there’s just too much art to miss, and I would regret it if I never showed up on Sunday morning to hear him preach in the square.
  3. Beirut
    • I am allowed to have two soul cities, and if Helsinki is one, Beirut is the other. Love of Beirut comes from the family that I lived with when I moved to Silver Spring in 2015, The Nassers. We had pictures all over our house of the marinas and I would look longingly, wishing I could be in the crystal blue water. I have wanted an apartment in that marina for like 10 years, but it’s just not safe. I wish all my blessings on Lebanon that it may be safe in the future.
  4. Mexico City
    • The only reason it’s on this list is that several people have told me it’s their favorite city in the world and I have to find out why. I already love Mexico, but my idea of the country is lying on the beach and constantly asking kids for another Coke or bottle of water on the beach. I have done the bum’s guide to Mexico, now I’d like to see some history, culture, museums, etc. I also speak a little bit of Spanish and Tiina speaks more than me, so I think we would have a blast…. we can actually get around.
  5. Tokyo
    • I have been a fan of the “Worth It” series on YouTube for a long time and have enjoyed Rie taking me around Japan. I would most like to go to Coffee Elementary School in Shibuya, but the fantasy is just to have an apartment and enjoy konbini life for a few days. I would love to relax and take in the city the way the people who live there do….. relaxed, calm, unbothered. Tokyo is a city of quiet delight, and all I can think about is the food.
  6. Dublin
    • I was invited to go to Dublin, but it just wasn’t the right kind of trip. It would have been rushed and frantic, when I want to experience Dublin as a local. I am interested in living there if I get a job at Microsoft, so going to Ireland is just a big excuse to see Leopardstown. And really, I don’t want a job at Microsoft. I want a contract with them. I think that they would think my work with Copilot is interesting…… Ireland would just be the cherry on top.

It Changes

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What is your favorite quote?
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I have a lot to process. I’ll try to remember to include quotes as I go.

I made a mess at home and I’m cleaning it up because I didn’t think about how everyone would feel in terms of being written about and as per my usual, I got letters. I just apologized and moved on- he was right. In my zeal to try and make a role for myself in Tiina’s life, I’d overstepped. No biggie, I just need to reorient my expectations. I am not trying to bully my way into anything, I am the visioning and values person. I do not only see what is happening right now, but what is happening five years from now based on pattern recognition.

But Tiina says that it takes time for other people to learn that I am not trying to wear their skin.

She’s asleep, so I’m still waiting for her to expand on that- I think it’s because people do not realize they are being seen up close. Only the ones that have something to hide seem threatened by it, but that is my experience over 25 years, not directed at any one person. And having something to hide isn’t nefarious. It’s anyone who uses a system of protection mechanisms because I can see through them. That’s the part they cannot stand. They are being recorded without them.

Because I just observe, and I would be happier writing about the animals…… and will. My life is changing, but that’s because I’ve been asked to step in where 16yo and 10yo are concerned. Not in an official, titled way- in a “mom and dad are both busy and Leslie has a car” kind of way. I have been asked to step in when Tiina needed a companion to New York. I am doing the things that a good friend would, and all I can do is show up as myself.

Time will tell all.

Time is a 10yo being grouchy with you at first and then getting an invite to their birthday party. Time is being able to look back and say, “you really did make Tiina’s life more comfortable at graduation.” It is because of these entries that I have the luxury of going back and looking. I am not driven by popularity, which is great, because I don’t have any….. well, not in the traditional sense. I’m not an “influencer” nor “mommyblogger.” I have just been writing on the Internet since before the modern era of it existed.

The rhythm of my life has been live/reflect/post since 2001.

It’s a different way to live, for sure, and an adjustment for the people around me. I have proven that I will give everyone else up to keep publishing, because I am not saying “I am a god and everyone must listen to me.” I am saying “there are seven billion people on the planet and we all have a voice. Here’s mine.” My opinion matters, but not more than Tiina’s. If she was threatened by me being a blogger, she would have said so quite plainly with Finnish flags for emphasis.

Most of the quotes I love are from Tiina because she’s just so effortlessly funny. My favorite quote from her, always, is:

Friends.

This is The Signal.

She is about to drop some truth so swallow whatever it is that I’m drinking or it will go everywhere.

Recording all these little things for me has turned into other people enjoying my weird little life and making pain not so hard to carry….. other people are willing to carry it with me. And as for using people’s real names, they get figured out anyway and I have to have a real footprint on earth. It is a personal opinion, and I am allowed to have it within limits. I am learning those limits every day because it is a new process, but I am not doing anything but recording my recollections.

My recollection of this time in my life is that transition is real. I saw a need and jumped in, and have done that classic overfunctioning thing because I am good at it…. truly reliable and remarkable as a gofer of all things. But I am overfunctioning when Tiina is reaching out for help, which is why it works.

Everything I’ve ever done for anyone in her family is because I love her. That is the story that I am trying to write, and everyone else is peripheral to it. They are not less important. Tiina is the tree and they are the branches. Love for the way Tiina and I work has led to the love of hanging with Brian and the kids as well….. because as it turns out, Brian and the kids are even more like me than Tiina is.

Time will tell as to how that all plays out. But please believe that when I’m trying to make someone’s life easier, it’s generally not anyone else’s but Tiina’s because she’s the one that brought all this into my life in the first place. It’s a balance of wanting to be helpful to her but also not to lose myself in the process. She has a huge life and I could get lost in it easily. The biggest damn difference is that it’s work I’m ready and willing to do.

It has been hard as shit learning to relate to children as a parent figure and not a buddy. It has been hard learning to navigate just about everything in terms of family dynamics because I have worked with kids. I have not lived with kids. Different ball of wax. I was unprepared for the energy that begins when I wake up because I am used to several hours of quiet, but that doesn’t stop 10yo. And even then, “living together” is in bits and spurts as I go for visits. Going to visit is not an easy prospect but at the same time, you cannot replace in-person visiting, either. I need to be offline, and the farm provides it. Even though we’re wired out there, it’s a different feel. I cannot just get lost in devices to regulate.

Tiina and Brian are both forcing me to look at autism in a different way and it is changing me, rewiring the parts of me that felt shamed all these years for the way I present. I’m just going to be awkward, I have a PhD in awkward……

But the story is not digging up the details of other people’s lives, it’s the details that get on me quite naturally.

If there’s a quote that sums all that up, it’s probably from the Bible…..

Quod scripsi, scripsi.

I cannot take it back. I can only move forward. But now I am not moving forward alone. I have a team under me that will help me figure it all out.

Didn’t We Just Cover This?

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
Who is the fictional character you relate to the most?
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I just wrote a whole ass essay on why Diana Gabaldon hates me personally. 😉 Lord John Grey rips my heart out because he fell ridiculously hard for a straight person and so did I. And what I found after that experience was that I liked the structure of the relationship- having someone that was my ride or die with no romance- so Tiina is that for me now. I am slowly building my life around her because she needs me. Full stop. I need her in that same primal way. It is a drive for cognitive connection and affection, all of which I need in order to feel safe and secure enough to date.

She says, “Leslie is my legs.” I didn’t know how I felt about that at first except now I realize that I use her as my brain so it’s okay. I am getting something that Lord John Grey did not get with Jamie, which is platonic partnership that feels deeper than friendship but lighter than marriage. Brian, Tiina’s husband, is amazing and I cannot say enough good things about him, but he is not talented enough to be in two places at once. Tiina has mobility issues and all three of us are worried about Tiina being alone in a situation. So it’s coordinating with Tiina to see whether she needs me as “arm candy” or not. I joke about being the hottie on her arm, but really what I mean is that someone needs to pack up the car, carry the suitcases, etc. and I am perfect. Tiina says, “my girlfriend Leslie” with ease, and at first I didn’t think it fit because that word packs such a punch in the queer world. But now I understand that Tiina does indeed need a girlfriend, and now she has one.

The workload of the farm and animals, the lake house and boat, and six children is more than enough work for two able-bodied adults, and that is no longer the case. I am stepping in so that Tiina’s role can be more executive and less physically demanding. That is work that a girlfriend does without fail, and without crossing into anything competitive with Brian because I am not trying to replace him and neither is Tiina. Nothing works without Brian, and I am grateful to him for opening my eyes to so many things, most notably audiobooks about autism that make me cry in my car.

It’s a multi-adult family because the kids are starting to rely on me; they see the changes happening in their house as well, even if they’re not always verbal about it. They know that the order of operations is, “ask mom. Ask Dad. Ask Leslie.” Watch that little one. They’re shifty…… Kidding about that, too, but it is amazing how many plans for my time have been made before my arrival.

It’s not just 10yo, though. 16yo thinks that the only reason I come over is to play Skyrim with him. This is not entirely untrue but let me at least give your mom a cheek kiss and drop off her coffee, damn. We all love video games and actually one of my favorite things is to watch Tiina shred in Fortnite. I love girl gamers and I just admire watching her. Her son is stereotypically good. She’s a sneak assassin.

That’s the thing about having a platonic girlfriend. I just notice and appreciate everything about her, all the time. It’s not about creating romantic energy, but creating comfort and familial closeness. We are both first children, therefore neither of us have ever had a big sister. This is our lane, a first-child relationship that tumbles and rolls because she’s chronologically older, but doesn’t flaunt it. She never pulls that card, and never makes me feel small because I couldn’t possibly understand her cosmic wisdom.

It’s not a huge age difference, either. Something like seven years. So most of the same cultural references exist, but I celebrate that she likes more 1980s music than me. I really didn’t come online until like 1985. I was born in 1977, but I don’t remember much. I am learning to love lots of different bands because both Brian and Tiina have different musical tastes than me.

But, like all queer/straight female relationships, Tiina and I can connect on The Indigo Girls. Women love them regardless of sexual orientation. I am determined to sing karaoke with Tiina, and I don’t care if she wants to be my Emily or my Amy. Just sing to me. Her voice is incredible because it’s so pure, and we sound great together.

I flip between Jewish and Christian imagery because I am Christian. My chosen family is Jewish. Hilarity ensues, but not as much as you might think because Brian and I were raised in the same faith tradition (Methodist) and he converted. So, we have the same inside jokes from childhood and I’m learning to be conversant in culturally Jewish spaces as well.

I drive by Aada’s old high school to get around town and remember where I came from. That there’s a reason I love the life I’m living now and it’s because she gave me a framework I could access. I don’t need romance in my life when I have companions. I am also making room for a romantic partner, but they, too, must fit into the life I’ve already chosen. Tiina is my priority because we are a system. I need a partner who will look at that and say, “cool. I’m not here to compete.”

I need support from a partner the way Tiina does, but meeting them shouldn’t come with letting her go….. and I will not let it happen.

16yo would throw a controller at your head.