I then realized how much my life has changed since I first came out to California.
When I was married, the sound of the garage door meant:
- My husband was home.
- Kiss all privacy goodbye.
- If online, get off as fast as possible before he decides to cut my computer access permanently.
- If his dog is with me in the kitchen or on the bed, rectify the situation before my husband finds out and punishes him
When I was in junior high school, the question, "Are you `Lynn Gold?'" meant I was about to get beaten up. Today it's usually a friendly inquiry.
When I was married, my husband used to use the term "sport" to refer to my dog as a "runt" because she was small (even though I liked and wanted her that way!). After I left him "sport" in reference to her meant sleek, speedy, and economical.
My ex wouldn't eat quiche because he was a "real man." My boyfriend doesn't eat quiche because he's allergic to eggs.
My ex referred to me in his bio in the original Hacker's Dictionary as an "aspiring broadcast personality." I don't have to "aspire" any more; I'm there.
Some things really do get better with time.