Ok. So Anyone who knows me is acutely aware that I flip out every time anyone discusses Bruce Jenner's transition. In a good way. I also bawl my eyes out during any special that airs regarding the transition and how everyone is dealing with it.
I don't cry because I'm sad or worried or because I had any particular attachment to Bruce and his physical appearance, but I cry because watching someone free themselves from things that hold them back from their soul's happiness is a profoundly moving sight.
In my life there have been prolonged times of sickness, unrest and unhappiness. Aside for the obvious fucking snake tornadoes of Crohn's Disease, relationships were shitty, jobs were terrible, friendships ended, and those times were really shattering to me. I get that these are pretty common problems to have in life and you just get through them. For me, I think they were hardest because I'm normally a super happy individual. I really am. I'm not one for big mood shifts, I avoid conflict, I don't enjoy negativity at all. I very much shy away from things that don't make me feel good and I trust who I trust and I always have. Secrets don't particularly appeal to me and any time I've had to keep one, it eats at me a little every day. If you have ever told me a secret, there has always been one person I can then tell it to who keeps it safe and it relieves me of the burden whether the secret is good or bad. And that just got me thinking of how utterly suffocating it must have been for Bruce to keep this inside him for so long.
As I have gotten older, I have amassed a large group of totally kick-ass loved ones. Some of these people have come along in the last 5 years, some have been here last 30+ years. I was talking to my mom about it the other day. My thoughts are "Fuck, I am SO lucky to have friends". What I really meant by that was that I am me. I am comfortable in my skin, happy there, really. I don't even know better than to be totally authentic. Sure, I can keep my shit together in formal situations, I can be cordial to people I don't particularly like, but I wouldn't know how to be fake if someone explained it to me. Authenticity comes very natural to me because it has been encouraged from a very young age. The people around me are wonderful and are beyond valued by me because they totally accept, and dare I say it, enjoy me for exactly who I am. I definitely try to make people feel welcome and happy and loved, though at times, I am a ponytail-swinging, bull in a china shop. God bless my loved ones, for fucking real, man.
Back to Bruce. For me. It would be a death-like fate to not be able to be myself and feel loved as is. And let me tell you, it takes bravery to be yourself just as a "normal" person with "the average things" going on in your life. It really does. To say what you really feel and love who you really love and hope that everyone gets on board with those things, yet be prepared to press on if they don't, takes strength and fortitude. But to actually realize your soul was born into a body that doesn't feel like home to you?? Holy shit. The inner conflict. I can't even imagine. I can't even conceive of it.
To say I applaud Bruce for having the strength to become Caitlyn is the mother of all understatements. Not only did she make these moves, but in the public eye, in front of the world, on the cover of Vanity Fair in a fucking corset and bodysuit. Slaying. (I am in arguably the best shape of my entire life and I wouldn't pose on the cover of VF in anything less than a photoshopped ball gown.) And for the first time, I didn't cry about Bruce, I was just blown away by Caitlyn. Being elegant, being beautiful, being free. Never has there been a better time than to scream "YAS KWEEN!!"
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