Every day I try to challenge myself to think harder, to listen to others more deeply, to be more loving and patient. Needless to say, I frequently fail.
Most parents don’t imagine their children growing up to become gay atheist interfaith activists.
I don’t mean to suggest that my tattoos aren’t a big deal to me. In fact, I cherish all of them — I’ve even come to appreciate the one with the Bible verse that I got shortly before I stopped believing in God.
“Kiss me kiss me kiss me!” Jon exclaimed, unable to wait any longer. And I did. In that moment, the world split open. It was like the first time I successfully rode my bike without feeling like I would topple over in an instant; like the first time I read a book or listened to a song and really felt it; like the first time a fully formed word emerged amongst the gibberish of my infant mouth.
“Vow” – the first song off Garbage’s 1995 self-titled debut – came on. When Matt and I first met, we had bonded over our mutual childhood love for Garbage – and how much we (without even a shred of irony) continued to enjoy them. We sang along, loudly, until Matt slammed the volume button and turned to look squarely at me, his face lit up with one of the biggest grins I’d ever seen.