Let Them Eat Cake

Last night I read a bunch of emails, and because of what many of those emails said, I feel this evening's post needs a disclaimer ... a whole lot of you are going to disagree with some or most or all of what you're about to read. And guess what? Not only will I not be upset with you for disagreeing with me, you have the right to do so. In fact, you have the right to choose not to ever read another word I write if that's what you want to do. I don't say that to be mean or harsh in any way, I'm simply stating the truth ... you don't have to read what I write if you don't want to read it ... you have the choice to read or not read, it's completely up to you. Now, on to my subject for the evening ... those emails I read last night.

I'm always amazed by the number of emails I receive asking me to weigh in on particular social or religious issues ... as if my opinion makes any difference whatsoever in regard to the eventual outcomes regarding those issues. You credit me as having the ability to sway public opinion ... seriously, have you read my blog? Last night I wrote about my wiener dog barking when he poops in our yard. Trust me when I say I have no more ability to change the way people think or act than I do to make Ollie stop barking when he poops. Do I hope my words help a few folks in some way? Of course I do. Do I sometimes voice my opinion on certain issues? Sure I do, especially when I get angry over injustice or lack of compassion or the absence of common human decency and respect for our fellowman. Are there tons of things I don't write about for fear of offending someone or the repercussions that may come my way if I do? You better believe it ... I get enough hate mail as it is for the things I do write. And for the record, when I do wade in and voice my opinion on some of the more heated topics, it's not without having pondered and mulled over and contemplated every single word I write.

Unless you live off the grid in the middle of the desert under a gigantic rock, you probably know that a lot of people are really upset about the religious freedom bill that was passed in Indiana a couple of weeks ago. I read a lot of emails last night telling me I needed to write a post blasting Christian retailers who believe they have the right to refuse to provide services or sell products to folks who are gay because of their religious convictions. I read a lot of emails last night telling me I needed to write a post blasting people in the LGBT community who believe they are being discriminated against. I read a lot of emails last night telling me I needed to write a post in which I choose a side ... a post in which I take a stand ... a post in which I condemn one or the other, Christians or gays. Sorry to disappoint a lot of you, but I respectfully decline.

What I will do, however, is tell you about an experience I had last Saturday. I went to the post office to mail a package, and I was wearing jeans and a dress shirt ... no tie, but I did have on suspenders and Converse shoes. I waited in line until the next available post office employee motioned for me to come to the counter. The employee looked to be in her early 40s ... well-groomed with light brown hair, manicured nails, fancy earrings and dark red lipstick. She barely glanced at me when I placed my package on the counter in front of her as she said, "What can I do for you today, sir?" It's not like that's the first time I've been called sir, and most of the time I just let it go. But last week was a hard week on the being okay with who I am front, and I calmly but firmly said, "I'm a maam, not a sir." The young woman then looked up from weighing my package, gave me one of those up and down looks and said, "Oh ... well you look like a man the way you're dressed and with your hair." Even though I wanted to say so much more ... so very, very much more ... I lowered my head and said quietly, "Well, I'm not." Her only reply was a condescending shake of her head as she told me how much my postage was ... she offered no apology, no thank you, no "Have a nice day." I paid and ducked out the door before the tears I had been trying desperately to blink back began coursing down my cheeks.

So to those of you who wrote to me, here's what I have to say ... I know. I know what it is to have faith in God, because I do. I know what it is to have strong family values, because I do. I know what it is to fight for what you believe in, because I do. But you know what else I know? I know what it is to not be the same as other women, because I'm not. I know what it is to not fit in, because I don't. I know what it is to be different, because I am. I know what it is to be shunned, because I have been.

Want to know what I want? Want to know what I really, really, really want? I want to wake up tomorrow and have people care more about each other's hearts than they do about each other's wallets. I want to wake up tomorrow and have people care more about love than hate. I want to wake up tomorrow and have people care more about each other's spirits than they do each other's clothes. I want to wake up tomorrow and have people care more about the millions of starving children than they do about buying or selling wedding cakes. I want to wake up tomorrow and have you be you and me be me and that be good enough.

I never liked cake anyway. So there.