We’ll just start with the graphic
Today is a big day for my friend, Erin. Follow that link because it answers most of the questions.
It’s funny, she actually told Michael before she told me. And then she let Michael tell me. My initial reaction, “That explains a lot.”
Then I proceeded to message with Erin on Facebook and tell her how much I appreciated her trusting me with her big secret and how honored I was that she’d be so vulnerable with me. Since then, we’ve had conversations about whether or not it was time to tell the world. My answer has always been the same, “You have to do what is right for Erin. I will support whatever decision you make.”
You see, Erin has always just been Erin. Since I am in a happy, committed, monogamous relationship, her fiddly bits or who she’d like to share them with are none of my business nor concern. She had already proven herself to be a good friend to me and the rest of the gun-blogging community. Something she has just done again in support of Bonnie (click that link too). I judged her on the content of her character and found it good.
I’ve learned a lot about her struggle that I never would have realized had she not been so willing to be so frank with me and had the patience to explain when I have blundered into an offensive landmine. My eyes are opened to a world I never saw prior to knowing her.
Brigid, as usual, said it beautifully
What if just for a day, you were judged solely on what you’ve read, what you’ve learned the hard way, what you are, what drives and inspires. What if you were valued for your innate abilities to survive and prosper through that day without birthright; handling yourself and your actions without apology, but simply by the human vanity of your own strengths and the grace of He who loves us as we are.
If that day came, who would the world see?
You see, I have the advantage of looking like my image of myself. It’s me looking back from the mirror. When you see me, it’s me. Sure, it’s not everything. I’m sure you see the confident woman I am always striving to be. You see the brown eyes, the olive skin, the dark hair. The same olive skin and dark eyes that meant my elementary school best friend wasn’t allowed to come to my house because I was one of ‘those people’ to her mother. Her mother couldn’t see me. You all saw Erin long before you ever saw her face, and Erin is beautiful. I am proud to stand by her side and call her my friend.