The box

The other night I went to a good friend's house. She had a couple of other friends over, and all in all it was a really great night. Every time I am with this woman I learn so much, and this time was no different. My friend, A. is amazing. She's creative, she's inquisitive, she's open to life. She's unlike anyone else I know. Anyway.

We were hanging out around a campfire, the alcohol was free flowing, and everyone was calm and open and honest. The subject of the box came up. Who's in? Who's out? How so?

These people, without question, are outside the box. Mainstream doesn't matter to them, to the point that the lives they live aren't even a rebellion against the box. The box holds no influence over them. They are who they are. I love them.

I realize that I have spent most of my life at this crossroads. The border of in and out of the box. It's not that I am scared to make a choice, it's not that I am afraid of not being accepted. It's that, until very recently, I had no clue whether I belonged in or out. And I didn't have the language to figure it out. Most of the people that I knew talked about stupid shit like clothes and American Idol. They NEVER would have sat outside, in light rain, building a campfire until 5 am talking about the history of religion, and misogyny, and who you are and why you are. My old friends, and I still love them, of course, but we are different, always got tired of these discussions, when I'd try to have them.

So. This is my declaration. I know where I belong, and I'm out. Out of the closet. Out of the box.