I have a crush on coffee. I dont actually drink coffee but am absolutely smitten with the ritual of it. Perhaps its the heat that attracts me. I love the way hot coffee makes people pause. Coffee drinkers may succumb to its addictive nature (ahh, the caffeine) but with that physiological pull comes with the grand gift of of daily pause. The measuring of scoops, pouring of water, waiting, and the smell. Oh, how I do love the smell of coffee. Every day people wake up early to brew and wait, sit and sip, read the paper and ponder, while the sun comes up in the distance. I suppose that was the coffee fantasy of my childhood. Todays is more about coffee shops, groovy baristas, music, familiar strangers, baked goods, and inspiring quotes printed on environmentally friendly cups. It all feels very romantic to me. I crave itthe romantic pause of the coffee culturebut theres a problem. I dont like coffee. I cant stand the way it tastes, never have been able to. I used to complain about my brok...
Yesterday, a friend messaged me to say that shed given someone information about my work as a Life Coach: I gave your info to one of my dearest friends. She is married and has two kids. She just this morning wrote the words for the first timeI am gayand I am terrified.And just like that I was naked again, folded up on the elegant tile floor of a walk-in shower that I had designed myself just months before. The remodel was needed, mostly, I think to save our marriage, the way some people have a baby because that will make them something that they suspect they are supposed to be. Remodeling the outdated space also gave the downstairs a half-bath, evicting the four children and their slew of friends from the bathroom that led directly into our bedroom. It was a major renovation, which turned the biggest bedroom in the house into a true master suite and when I left, the Master let the children use that bathroom anyway. He had a broken heart and filled it with whoever was around. First, that was me and in my absence, filling that damned shower with the children was a move necessary for his survival. I understand him because that shower nearly killed me, too. At least, I begged it to on the night in question.Id been out with a friend and came home with the truth, MY TRUTH, pulsing through my veins. It wasnt about her, it was me the real me. I kept the real me locked up in a secret room in my mind and Id in time, Id told the friend about my truth, showed her where the real me was being held. She wasnt the first person I showed. In fact, Id revealed my truth to many and yes, even my husband. He thought it was novel, I believe, and containable because of that nice room I kept her in, but this friend... 
