Where's the Fire?

People who know me well know that I'm not much of a party person ... anymore ... I should say I'm not much of a party person anymore. There was a time when I enjoyed going to parties ... I enjoyed the interaction with all the people ... I enjoyed playing games and having fun ... and yes, I even enjoyed having a couple of beers or a gin and tonic or two. Even though there was always the fear that someone would learn the truth about my sexuality, I used to genuinely enjoy partying the night away with my friends. It's not the fear of being outed that causes my apprehension and trepidation in regard to parties these days ... it's the fear of judgment for being who I am and that confidence-robbing, self-esteem smashing beast of depression that cause me to shy away from parties and social interaction. Those two things together make for a mighty adversary when it comes to me getting my party on ... a mighty adversary indeed.

Friday night was the annual winter event for the company where I work, held in a swanky downtown club with cocktail attire being the dress code for the evening. Those two words alone ... cocktail attire ... were enough to push my panic button for sure ... I mean, come on ... do you think I own a party dress? Do you think I own any kind of dress? Seriously. But the party was also the retirement celebration for one of my all-time favorite guys ever ... not even those words ... cocktail attire ... could keep me home Friday night. Even had I been required to wear a dress ... thank God I wasn't ... not even having to wear a sequined dress would have kept me from being there to honor my friend. I wish I could say I walked into the swanky party feeling super confident in my black shiny shoes, red suspenders and Snoopy bow tie ... I can't say that, but I can say that I went to the party and that it was a good time and a good evening.

A good portion of the party was spent celebrating my friend's retirement ... speeches, videos, laughter and memories filled the room and brought tears to the eyes of quite a few of us. But it was something my retiring friend said during his speech that has seared itself into my mind ... something that has caused me to do a lot of soul-searching over the last couple of days. He was talking about things he was going to miss about our company when he made the statement ... the statement that is stuck in my brain.

"I'll miss Terrie's fire ... and you can interpret that however you want."

I chuckled along with everyone else, but I also knew down deep in my heart that my friend's comment carried with it far deeper meaning for me ... far, far deeper meaning. It takes work to keep a fire burning ... it takes tending and stoking and patience and commitment to keep a fire burning. It's much easier for a fire to burn out than it is for it to keep burning ... yep ... that fire I worked so hard to build can burn out in the blink of an eye if I don't do what's necessary to keep it going. Whether he meant them to or not, my friend's words have made me seriously consider the fire that is me ... the fire that is my heart, my soul, my spirit, my mind. His words made me truly think about what it really means to be warm and inviting and open. His words made me ponder the reality that the fireplace without the fire is a sad, empty, lonely, desolate place. The fireplace without the fire is just an empty shell ... an empty shell that sits waiting, hoping and longing for its beloved fire to return.

So where's the fire my friend was talking about? It's in me, friends ... the fire is in me.