The Photo Strip

Today was James’s birthday. Happy birthday, babe. To celebrate, we went to Cheddar’s for lunch and then to the movies. We were sitting in the lobby waiting to go into the auditorium because we were a bit early. I’m always too early, and James makes sure he reminds me of that every time.

As we were sitting there, James was on his phone. As I was watching people go by, I noticed a self-serve digital photo booth that takes three pictures and spits them out in a strip. Something like what I remember from a carnival or in the mall. But this one put your images on a Star Wars-themed strip. And, of course, I immediately got excited. I dragged James over to the booth and we got in. We paid. We smiled for the first picture. Then, on the second picture, James leaned over and kissed me. Then, on the third picture, I leaned in and kissed him. Both kisses were on the cheek. We got out and the machine spit out two picture strips of the same three images with a lightsaber-wielding Darth Vader at the bottom. I gave James his and I hugged mine. The images came out very nice, and there was just something about James volunteering that kiss. When he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, my heart melted. Because I wasn’t expecting it.

I stared at the strip with a big smile. I immediately thought that I needed to post this on social media because it really felt good every time I looked at it. But then I had a counterthought: No! I don’t want anyone to get uncomfortable seeing my post of James and me kissing.

It was time for our movie, Mandalorian and Grogu. We went into the auditorium. We ordered our food: my popcorn and James’s queso fries. And we watched the screen promote one thing after another. Previews started and went for about thirty minutes. Then the movie. It was a fantastic movie. I enjoyed it. I haven’t enjoyed something Star Wars in a long time and this one felt good.

But…

Yes, there was a ‘but’. This ‘but’ didn’t have anything to do with Star Wars or Mandalorian and Grogu. Throughout the entire movie, previews and all, my thought was on that photo strip. I realized that I, myself, was uncomfortable with posting that image on social media. I kept asking myself “WHY?”

I believe my answer was two-fold. First, the reason I felt uncomfortable about posting that photo strip was that I realized I didn’t have anyone, except a few coworkers and my kids, to show the photo to. Most of my family wouldn’t want to see it. A ton of my Facebook “friends” don’t know me well, and many of them are from my church days, so I know they won’t want to see it. Who can I send this photo strip to, the one that came to mean something so much to me? Who would care?

Second, I genuinely was surprised that I was uncomfortable with the idea of my “friends” looking at that photo with critical, judgmental eyes. The same judgemental eyes that I felt on me as a kid. The same dogmatic, one-sided, critical look I grew up with.

It truly bugged me. I thought I had come such a long way in the ten years that have passed since I came out. I thought I had come to the place where I didn’t care about what anyone thought and I would proudly just be me. Just be the me that I tried to hide for so many years. The same hiding that had turned to a malignant cancer that tried to eat me alive. It took me so long to get rid of that pain. In that moment at the theater, I was disappointed in myself because I thought I had come further than I really had.

Don’t worry! I still enjoyed my movie, but the feeling stayed with me all the way home. I came to my computer almost immediately and wanted to write about it. Because most of the time, when I’m sad or overwhelmed, writing is my therapy. Whether anyone ever reads anything I write, it is therapy for me. So, at least someone is getting something out of it, even if it’s just me.

That was the first thing. The next thing was: I realized that those people I’m worried about seeing that photo of James and me will never accept me. They will say, “I love you, but I will never agree with you.” And I’ve come to terms with that. I expected it, really.

So, I realized that I’ve not progressed as far as I thought I had. There was still some work to do on the inside of me. There are still some feelings to process, some pain to work through, some expectations to let go of. It’s not always an easy journey.

I’m sitting here at my computer, staring at my Darth Vader photo strip from the theater lobby, and I’m smiling. Yes, I’ve got some work to do on me. This incident should not have bothered me, and the fact that it did shows how much more there is to be done. But I’m smiling because I’m happy. I’m free. I’m more clear-headed than I’ve ever been. There’s a peace inside me I thought I’d never have.

I have my soulmate. I have my children, who still love and support me. I have my coworkers, who have always been good friends. The rest of them, the ones I wish I could be close to, maybe they'll come around or maybe they'll just fade away, because they refuse to see who I am now as the real me. I guess it's up to them.