From My Parents Basement

As I sit here, embarking on a new journey in life from the depths of a suburban Cincinnati home, I cannot help but wonder why it is that people fear the unknown as much as they do. I, for instance, am currently living in a state of suspension, all of my wordly belongings littering the floor of my childhood bedroom with some remnants of my old life in the house I shared with my fiance up until 4 weeks ago, when he ceased to be my fiance and became another part of my old life.

With plenty of help from a newly acquired gay entourage and a generous dose of gay-bar karaoke and Broadway shows, I have decided that from now on I will do whatever I want to do whenever I want to do it. I have spent my entire life seeking validation from one source or another, be it my mother, one of many therapists, judgemental friends or controlling boyfriends. I am tired of rules written by those who cannot do, and teach. I am done listening to the advice of those too miserable to confront their own demons, who feel much more comfortable lecturing me on mine. I am finished with men who want to put me in a box, and family members who want me to live according to their values. And, for Christ's sake, I am not going to pay any more therapists to tell me what I already know or mind-fuck me into thinking that I am wrong because I don't agree with them. For a fee. So I like to do things differently. I am over feeling bad about that.

Dr. Suess, a very wise man indeed, said "Do what you feel and say what think, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." Truer words have not been spoken by any doctor I have made out large checks to. And so I am embarking on a new journey in which I move at my own pace, trust my own instincts, and fuck up and fall on my face without falling apart afterward. No more paranoia, no more unnecessary shame, in short, no more giving a fuck.

In my parent's basement, I am being reborn. I am being resurrected. I am a phoenix rising from the ashes of my own decade of joyless decadence. And soon I will have my own place in which to write and to sing and to feel joy at the independence, the true independence of mind, body and soul that it has taken me 28 years, several medications, countless fuck-ups, some colossal family issues, at least 7 therapists and 2 broken engagements to acquire.