I was shopping in the downtown Seattle Goodwill last year, which is the biggest Goodwill I've ever seen. The cart I was pushing had a messed up wheel. You know, the type that doesn't spin correctly cause it has a shit-ton of thread caught up in it? So I take out my handy plastic handled pocket knife I bought at my neighborhood corner store and start cutting away the tangle of threads. My girlfriend at the time walks over to me and asks what I'm doing. I tell her the problem and explain how I keep a knife in one of the zippered pockets of my purse for an occasion just as this. She says, "That is so lesbian." I couldn't have felt more proud. Identifying that certain of my characteristics are typically lesbian has been a source of pride and validation. I had no idea that carrying a pocket knife was a lesbian trait. To me, it was just practical, but it makes sense.
When I reflect on those aspects of myself that made me feel like an outsider, off, not quite right, and can connect those those attributes to the fact that I'm gay, it gives me a sense of place, of fitting in, that I belong. I am proud of who I am. I like that I can fix things, that I installed my own car stereo, that I have repaired my lawn mower and a broken clothes dryer. I have replaced my own head lamps, brake lights and hatch lifts on my car. I like that I can pitch my own tent, start my own fire and camp solo. I like that I am athletic, good at math and science, and don't have to wear makeup to feel complete. Most of all, I like that I can now fully embrace who I am. For the first time, I like being me.
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