A post in which I sort out a dream, and start the day

I woke up early this morning. I dreamed heavily last night.

I had been entered in a drag pageant at the insistence of my friends. “You have a great chance,” they said. “You should really do this. We’ll do everything.” The pageant was in a large gymnasium that had been redecorated with a raised dais for the event. The cavernous space was dark except for a large spotlight trained at the stage. As presentation started, I was sitting in the contestant area, in boy clothes, still unshaven. I was like “Where is the stuff? Where is everyone?” Eventually, my friend Michael showed up with a dress. It was a knit dress, fit me poorly, and would clearly show off every figure flaw. He put it over my head. Talent had started and I knew I had to get out there. Russ painted my lips on my still-bearded face, and I ran for the stage.

I got there to a rousing round of derision from the assembled crowd. I finished my number and went into an adjoining room to get away from it all. After it was over, for some reason Portia de Rossi appeared in full Ally McBeal glory. In the dream she was a drag queen, and began to berate and castigate me very loudly and abusively. I was kneeling beside a big pile of dirty clothes, and got angry back and began throwing wadded balls of clothes at her.

A group of people were leaving through the room, and witnessed the scene. “Oh that woman is actually a man,” an older woman commented about Portia. “No wonder those invitations she sent were ridiculously huge.”

Interesting. Aside from the obvious metaphors of airing dirty laundry, being in the spotlight (perhaps because of a conspicuous relationship), and facing the censure of others for my actions, I think it’s pretty clear that my subconscious is telling me I let my friends call the shots a bit too much. Maybe they are well-intentioned, but don’t always know what’s best for me. Not exactly an earth-shattering revelation, but it felt pretty profound at 5am this morning. Of course my friends love me, and I am very grateful for that. They have seen me through a really rough time. But maybe this was just emphasizing to me that it’s OK if I take a bit of the decision-making back.

***

After I kind of sorted that out, I became more aware of sweet M beside me, sleeping. It amazes me that this man is in my life. This little guy with such a small body who has the heart the size of a truck. This man who has waited so long for someone just to treat him like a person, and love him. This man that so many idiots have apparently looked over as nothing more than a pretty package, when such an amazing gift is inside of that wrapping. (I am chagrined that I was one of those idiots.) This diamond who has been overlooked on a beach covered in mere pebbles. I can’t believe how stupid people are, or how lucky I am. I am overwhelmed. My heart is full to bursting with happiness. I break my vow to let him rest, take him in my arms, and wake him.