I’ve lost so many people in my life. Family members, friends, loved ones, and I just keep moving. In August of 2023, I lost a good friend from High School; she was one of the most amazing people I had ever met, and I don’t think she even realized how important she was. So, I’d like to take a minute to tell you about her, to keep her memory alive. So, let’s talk about that, together.

Image: “Angel Child on the Bridge” - Alex Gruber

It’s a lot easier to reject ourselves than it is for others to reject us. And so, we put up all of these walls and we stop ourselves from allowing others in. If I don’t let anyone get to know me, they will never have an opportunity to leave or to reject me. The trouble here, is that they will never truly have an opportunity to show me love either. Let’s talk about that, together.

It’s really difficult to pin down exactly what it means to be “me”. Some philosophers have talked about the idea that a person’s identity is based on how they act when they think no one is looking.

When I was younger, I fell in love with a man. He was charming, witty, clever, exciting, and brilliant. Oh, he was brilliant. He almost always could figure some clever way out of whatever impossible situation he would find himself in. This would happen often, for he had quite the knack of letting his curiosity get the better of him. Could never resist a good mystery. Which is strange, given how closely he keeps his past to his chest. I never knew his name because he always just called himself “The Doctor”. Just “The Doctor”. What I did know was that he was an alien; just like me. We traveled and went on adventures together. He changed fairly frequently as he experienced more of what this world had to offer, and that change terrified him. To change means to die and have another person running around with your name. For most of my life, I’ve dealt with this constant fear of the Future. The BBC’s “Doctor Who” helped show me as a child the importance of art, and how it can be used to make someone immortal. So, let’s talk about that. Together.

Last weekend, a friend invited me to watch her participate in one of the largest amateur circuses in the world. The entire day ended up being incredibly stressful, hectic, and socially exhausting, but at the same time, one of the calmest and most eye-opening experiences of my entire life. Watching a helicopter land 15 feet in front of me; a parade full of acrobats, businessmen, politicians, and a gang of biker clowns; a carnival run by some of the nicest people you’ll ever meet; and a circus event with a live band, performers aged 4-19, teenagers juggling fire, clowns spraying water at the audience, pre-teens balancing on top of each other seven-at-a-time while holding heavy weights while crossing a tight-rope–I finally know what it truly means to be open-minded and self-accepting. So, let’s talk that. Together.

As a young child, I remember being really excited to go to see the fireworks every year. Watching the emotionally powerful parade of colors dancing around in the sky to the beat of the roaring booms from the fireworks shells exploding in the air. I watched the beautiful artwork being made through the use of different types of fireworks, the careful timing required during the launch to sync the explosions up with music, and the sheer imagery of people gathering in mass to celebrate the simple fact they were free. I remember noticing all of these beautiful things as a small child, being amazed at what I saw, and not knowing how to communicate any of it. As I grew older and began experiencing problems with the sounds of fireworks explosions because of my Neurodivergency, I began to feel alien. This is not, however, the first time I’ve felt alien in life.

“What’s your plan for your career?” is the type of question I was asked nonstop when I graduated from high school.