So I’m sitting in bed this morning, wishing that it wasn’t a mug of water on my night stand but something (anything?) stronger so I could actually wake up and face the day.

But this seems like a good time to be against hetero-normativity.

This is private time, behind my doors, a place in my life where few people ever interfere. That is, at least they don’t in a direct and obvious manner. The problem is that a great deal of people have decided they have a stake in who I wake up next to, who smells my morning breath (I’ve got that not so fresh feeling) and what happens in these hours.

Part of the problem is that I honestly don’t know how I want to share this time, what I want to create in the private spaces of my life. Just figuring out what I want to do for lawful employment is tough enough most days. I can say academic with a fair degree of confidence, but I’m still not sure biblical studies is the best choice in the world, and then I get to wondering about the boundaries of disciplines and my head explodes with dorkery.

Will I be with a man? A woman? Someone who doesn’t strictly identify by dualized gender? No idea. None. I like monogamy, at least as a baseline principle, so I’ve got that going. I’m looking for roughly a single person. I tend to be most attracted to people fairly close to my age, give or take a few years (more going up, fewer going down)…so I can safely restrict my musings in that way. But beyond that? It’s vast tracts of cluelessness.

And right now, that’s what makes me queer. What Gilda Radner called delicious ambiguity…

I got asked once, by a well meaning but perhaps confused and certainly drunk friend, how did I in fact know my orientation if I hadn’t had extensive sexual experience to “prove” it. My politics don’t depend on who I sleep with. I don’t become any more compatible to the system if I’m with a woman, or more loyal to the queer community if I’m with a man.

Queer is in my head and heart. It’s in the flutter of my heart when I get a hug from a cute boy. It’s in my musing about that girl who broke my heart. It’s about the pictures I can only see dimly of what my family is going to be.

And it’s in how I have decided that I’m quite alright with that.

That this ambiguity is…delicious.