I’ve said it before, yet it is worth repeating…One of the trickiest parts of parenting is that it doesn’t always yield immediate results, say, like baking bread does. Heck, it doesn’t even require the patience, fortitude and technique that it takes to start and maintain a sourdough starter. Parenting requires the chutzpah it would take to start a freaking boulangerie. In Paris. Yet every now and again, you’re delivered a morsel more delicious than the sourdough baguette that I just took out of my oven. You are given a moment from your child that says, “I do hear you. You are helping me learn. I am internalizing your lessons.” And…
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Tuck Frump
In my last post, I talked about coming out twenty-five years ago and the progress that the LGBT community has seen this last quarter-century. In reflecting on how many of these changes made it easier for the younger generation to live their authentic lives, I also thought about the generations that preceded me. Those who had no real choice but to hide and be silent. Those who know me, whether it be those closest to me, or people with whom I have stayed connected with through social media, know that I am a vocal person. I like to say that I am like cilantro. People love me or hate me.…
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25 Years Out and Proud
Tomorrow is National Coming Out Day. It is also the day that I was supposed to run my fourth Chicago Marathon, but, you know, 2020. When thinking about Coming Out Day, I remembered that this November marks the 25th anniversary of my coming out. It feels like both yesterday and a lifetime ago. It might seem trivial to say that a lot has changed over the last quarter century, yet it is so true. In today’s world, where so many teens have the bravery of living their authentic selves, coming out at the age of 27 like I did seems old. Part of the reason that it took me so…
