Connecting

There is a married couple that comes to the library often. They are "high-functioning developmentally-disabled" people. For those who don't comprehend PC speak(politically correct jargon), they are "mildly retarded."

The woman always takes out movies about "retarded" people, autistic people, "differently-abled" children. She does this so much that her husband once came alone, begging us to take away her library privilege. She was driving him crazy with her movies. He was fighting tears as I told him that I was not able to cancel the card.

I know how she feels. Less so now than when I was young, but I felt so alone as a young gay in a rural environment, in a large school and among my peers and family. I needed something to show me that I was not alone. I needed to know what to do and words to put with my feelings.

If you are anything other than a generic "white bread" American, and it is my contention that everybody is a part of some other group, then you have a need to find belonging. Trekkies. Bowlers. Fishermen. Nudists. Wine drinkers. Whatever!

That woman is looking for a connection. She gets little bursts of the feelings that she craves when the characters in her movies are happy and triumphant. She seeks to understand herself through them. She looks for what helps them succeed.

I know this because I used to do little else but seek solace from my isolation. More than anything, I wanted to belong and be loved for my true self. I found books about lesbians in catalogs. I got the Ladyslipper Music catalog (but I couldn't afford music.) When we got cable, I would try to watch anything that came along that even hinted of the Sapphic.

Things have changed a lot. When I told my Dad that I was not coming home until late on Tuesday, he sat upright and turned to me excitedly. "You're going out?!" he was smiling. "You should have a life!"

In the days when I stayed home with Mom, we never spoke of my sexuality, preference, needs. Now... my girlfriends come over to meet the family and are welcomed.   My father wants to see me dating and having love in my life.

When I first told him I was gay at 19, he said he'd be disappointed.  Now he knows it wasn't a phase.

Isn't it funny how things turn out? Nothing like what I expected when I was young. I thought I'd marry and make babies and be fulfilled as this wonderful wife. Hmph.

Turns out that I am messy and don't cook (although I can and I have and no one has died from my cooking), I'm not heterosexual, have only felt slight pangs of regret for not breeding and I need a man like I need a sucking chest wound.

The woman sits at the card catalog computer and searches and searches for something, anything. She has two interests.  Animals and "special" people. When she doesn't find something new, she puts a hold on something old and takes it out again.

The library is full of people looking to be part of something.  I guess you could say the world is. 

"Sweet dreams are made of this.

Who am I to disagree?

Travel the world and the seven seas.

Everybody's looking for something." -- Eurythmics