It's Not About the Beets

When I was a little kid, my mom and dad both worked full-time which meant I spent a significant amount of time with my three older siblings and their families ... yes, families ... I was born 15 years after Mom and Dad's first crop of kiddos. It goes without saying that spending a lot of time at my siblings' homes meant that I also ate more than a few meals with them. To be honest, I don't remember what most of those meals consisted of ... except the meal that involved the beets ... boy, do I remember that meal. One of my two sister-in-laws served beets for lunch one day ... I have no idea what else was on my plate that day, but I know beyond the shadow of any doubt there were beets. In fact, I remember there being a gigantic mountain of beets on my plate ... red, smelly, disgusting beets ... the biggest serving of beets in the history of the world.

As I'm sure you've gathered by now, I don't like beets ... I really, really, really don't like beets. I don't like them at all, and I never have. I truly believe my sister-in-law was on some sort of beet mission that day, because she was determined I was going to eat those beets. So determined that she told me I couldn't leave the table until I did so ... suffice it to say that by the time I finally choked down some of the beets, they were ice cold and it was dark outside. We laughed many times in later years about the atrocious day of the beets ... but it wasn't one bit funny to me or her that day ... not one tiny little bit funny at all.

If you've been reading along with me for even a short time, you've probably picked up on the fact that I love Converse shoes, suspenders and ties ... especially bow ties ... I really love bow ties. I've always loved that look, but with the exception of a few times in my youth, I didn't embrace the style I so loved because I was afraid of how others might judge me. It wasn't until a year and a half ago that I finally allowed myself to be ... well ... myself. I wish I could tell you that I've reached a point where I'm completely okay with being me ... you have no idea how much I wish I could tell you I'm completely okay, but it just wouldn't be true. But ... learning to love who we are and accept who we are and be who we are is a journey for all of us ... straight and gay alike ... in that quest, we are all the same, no matter what we look like on the outside.

So here's the thing ... my point ... what I would like for you to take away from this evening's post. Some straight people (not all ... but some) have more than a few misconceptions about gay people, not the least of which has to do with clothing. Wearing Converse shoes and suspenders and ties does not ... let me repeat that ... does not mean I want to be a guy ... no way, no how, not ever do I want to be a guy. My style of clothing is just that ... my style ... it's what I feel most comfortable wearing. I'm not a transvestite, though that label has been cruelly hurled at me before ... along with many others, I might add. I won't list the definition of transvestite here, but there are some of you who should take the time to look it up and find out what it really means. Not liking to wear dresses or sparkly stuff or heels or carry a purse doesn't make me any less a woman ... and neither does being gay for that matter. Wearing Converse and ties and suspenders doesn't mean I want to be a guy ... it means I want to be me ... nothing more and nothing less ... just me.

Now ... what does my story about beets at the beginning of this post have to do with my style of dress? It didn't matter how long my sister-in-law made me sit at that table ... I could still be sitting at that table today ...I still don't like beets, and I will never like beets. And it doesn't matter that I don't like beets, or it shouldn't anyway ... really and truly, me not liking beets shouldn't matter to anyone (except maybe the people who sell beets to make their living, I suppose). And even more, me not liking beets has absolutely nothing to do with who I am ... absolutely nothing. I don't like beets ... so what? I like broccoli and squash instead ... so what? I don't like dresses and sparkly stuff ... so what? I love Converse shoes and suspenders and ties ... especially bow ties ... I really love bow ties ... so what? 

Think about it, friends ... think about for a long, long time before you label someone ... it's not about the beets at all ... it's not about the beets at all.