Hiding in plain sight

The new stealth.

This morning, I went back in time.

Well, kind of. I went back to… *New Jersey* to sing at a conservative synagogue.

There were people who knew me, but did not know me. They didn’t recognize me. Some at first but then got clarity. Some didn’t recognize me ever. Some, I’m sure, would’ve been horrified if they knew.

From this experience, I got a bit of clarity about my desires and values and priorities.

Being seen as a man? Check. Not everyone will always get it. But enough people will and do.

Being heard and appreciated in the voice I have today? You bet. My old conductor even joked that I’m singing tenor now.

Being seen as ME and embraced and recognized? Not quite.

Recognition is not only being known. But being acknowledged and accepted.

I don’t want an award nearly as much as I want to be understood and loved as I am but I know that like many other gays with complex trauma I recognize that we conflate accomplishment with love.

I don’t want to erase the pieces of me that are Jewish. That are musical. They live in me and always will.

The truth is. I’m not a separate person than that kid. I’m not even a different name. Still Sandy. But I’ve managed to change a lot and it dawns on me how much when I can look in the eyes of people who have either loved or hated me over the years and not even register that it’s me.

One of them even was a teacher who was part of an effort to get me into conversion therapy. I wish her no harm. But I also don’t want to be in a space with her again if I can help it.

I’m still reconciling pieces of my past with my present and future and hoping I’ll get a life where I am able to be my whole self. Unafraid of other people’s bullshit.

Happy pride. Time to go change from shul clothes into a slutty little outfit.