A photographer named Leonard Martin Hughet reached out to me a few weeks back and asked if he could take my picture while he was visiting Portland from San Francisco. I figured it was the perfect time to immortalize my enormous holiday beard, so here she is, courtesy of Mr. Hughet’s talents!

Thanks Leonard!

(Originally Published on The Huffington Post on 3/4/2013)

In talking with friends and other LGBT people about our experiences growing up queer in a straight world, I’ve found that it’s pretty clear that becoming a well-adjusted citizen has proven more difficult than many of us expected. For each of us, this has manifested in different ways: drug abuse for some, sexual dysfunction for others, problems with emotional intimacy for still others, and for a lucky few like myself, a mix of all three.

Like many people, I plowed through my teens and 20s like nothing mattered, because back then it didn’t. The world had done me wrong early on, and I was determined to take it out on myself and anyone who dared get close to me. I burned every bridge I came across, and half a decade later the ashes are still smoldering.

During a recent medical visit to address one of the ongoing long-term side effects of my former addiction, the doctor shamed me for having made the terrible choices that I made early on that I am still paying for now (something that has happened on many occasions over the years). With each “this could have been avoided” or “you should just be grateful you are alive,” I felt myself shrinking back into that old bad-seed role that I had inhabited for so many years, and it took days to shake the hopeless feeling of being destined to be seen as who I used to be forever.
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