Burning Bridges

And forging connections

Last week I wrote about the importance of living authentically in the present, without tying ourselves to preconceptions of the future or an imagined fidelity to an ill-conceived idea of consistency. I touched on the way that many of us often restrict ourselves to living in boxes that we perceive others have placed us in. I’ve previously talked about the death we impose upon ourselves when we force ourselves to perform a role for others which forces us to betray the integrity of our existence.

Living with this mindset can be empowering, but embracing it can be difficult. There are reasons we all may feel these words resonate but feel ill at ease with putting these convictions into action within our own lives. It can be scary, or even terrifying, when we imagine the consequences of living authentically.

As we evolve in life, often things in our lives change, like our interests, tastes, politics, etc. So do those of the people around us. Often, we’ve taken these things upon ourselves without truly examining whether or not they actually fit us, discovering later that they do not.

There are no ends, only means. Nothing is constant. All is ephemeral. You are now.

And yet, when we imagine change, especially embracing significant change in our lives in order to put our convictions into action, those fears and terrors creep their way in. What will people think? Am I just being selfish? Will I just be a burden on the people I love? Will my family and friends still love me? Things are bearable now (maybe?), so is it really worth the risk? What if the people close to me write me off? I don’t want to burn any bridges…

Let’s get some uncomfortable stuff out of the way before I get to the good parts.

Since coming out as trans, having been written off and condemned by family, friends, and community members… I can empathize with these fears. Unfortunately, it’s all too common of a phenomenon. Consequences can be raw and difficult.

I’ve been warned by well-meaning friends and family countless times this year not to burn bridges after others have taken steps to hurt myself and my family. I remind them that I’m not the one holding the matches, but my arms are tired of carrying buckets of water to put out the fires. These friends and family recognize that I am not vindictive, but they are afraid that by walking away from the bridge, I might lose out on a future relationship with someone who has hurt me yesterday and today, but might not tomorrow.

I love these friends and family for their optimism, but I believe it’s misplaced. There is nothing wrong with forgiveness when people come back around, but I can’t do the work required to reshape another person’s mind and perception of me. That’s work they must do on their own, and as much as it hurts, it may never happen, and I must accept that. To do otherwise would be unhealthy.

There are a few key things I want to draw from this, though. As much as rejection hurts, as does the ending of relationships of close friends and family members, it’s a good reminder that acceptance and love are not always fungible, and that’s not our fault. I can no longer go back to being the version of myself that they loved, as it was false, and as it would still have been if I’d never told them.

Failure to live authentically does not mean you are not you, it just means that you are not living faithfully to your own existence, its own kind of death.

The Good Parts.

On the other side of the coin, however, is life, contentment, and I daresay, happiness.

Not all consequences are negative, and where myself and my family have experienced pain and continue to shed people from our lives, we have also experienced new joy, love, and life, and yes, true happiness.

Aside from the fact that our home is filled with more joy and love than ever, we have been invigorated by the forged (and reforged) connections in our lives. Before coming out, I worried about the people I would lose, but I gave very little thought to the people I would gain when coming out. If I’d realized that by living authentically, I might strengthen some of my relationships, reconnect with old friends, and forge new connections, it might not have been such a daunting prospect to come out publicly. More importantly, these new and strengthened relationships are so much more valuable precisely because they are built upon authenticity. The people in our lives love us for who we are, and not in spite of who we are.

I no longer have to be content with people who love my performance, but who can love me for who I am, and that’s meaningful, especially because I love me for who I am. I’d much rather spend my time and energy with people who love us for who we are than carrying buckets to put out the fires lit by other people’s matches– it’s just too exhausting, and what good is a bridge if you can’t cross it, anyway?

So, why does this all matter? What do we do with this?

First, I just want to acknowledge and express my gratitude to every person who I’ve met since coming out, old friends who have taken the opportunity to reach out to reconnect, and anyone who has strengthened your relationships with myself and my family. Even the people who have simply sent words of support have my undying gratitude. Words can’t express how grateful we continue to be for your love, support, and friendship. Sometimes even just a kind message means the world, knowing someone sees you and accepts you wholeheartedly and loves you for who you are.

In your own lives, you might be dealing with something large and daunting, or even small but significant. I want you to know that when you find the courage to face it head-on, there will likely be pain, but not only will it be worth it, there will be people there for you. They might not be the same people, but they’ll be the right people. They will be the people who see the authentic you and smile.

Likewise, when we recognize this, I think it’s important that we remember to see this in others. Be the friend or acquaintance who reaches out, reconnects, even if it’s been decades. You might feel strange, awkward, or that it’s unwelcome, but I assure you it’s not. What’s the worst that could happen? You’ll go from not talking for years to not talking again for years? Or you can celebrate the authenticity in others.

And lastly, I want to thank you, specifically. It takes a bit of courage to send out each of these posts, feeling a bit raw and exposed– if you’re reading this, you must find at least a spark of something valuable, and that gives me confidence that maybe I’m doing something right. So, thank you.