Seasons

We cherish Mother Earth for the way she changes seasons. She gracefully shifts from scorching Father Sun feeding sunlight to the grass, to autumn breezes and early moonlight. Then, she turns the colorful leaves into snowflakes that cake the grass and kiss our cheeks. Slowly, that snow begins to melt, and she changes again. Underneath the snow, she reveals beautiful budding flowers. The color contrasts after stark-white snow for months are breathtaking. She is always changing.

One morning as I was walking to my car to go to work, I recognized a familiar smell: the crisp smell of the Earth. Mother Earth was changing yet again. The smell that we typically refer to as “fall” is actually the leaves rotting and decomposing. Mother Earth absorbs her own creations. She is constantly evolving.

Then it hit me, we can adore Mother Earth for her beautiful changes, but we cannot honor that in ourselves or each other. Why is it okay for Mother Earth to rot the leaves she created from buds and absorb them back into herself, but not for humans to shed their old skin? We shed to bloom. But we lack the same amazement and compassion that we show our Mother Earth. We thank Father Sun for shining his light upon us, even when it burns us. We wait for Sister Moon to shine to her fullest potential each month, even though it makes us all a little crazy. But we cannot honor the brave transitions in each other.

We all have seasons.

For many seasons, I wore a different skin. I wore the skin that I thought society wanted me to. But I wasn’t honoring the soul that was destined to walk Mother Earth. I wasn’t appreciating the body that was to be kissed by Father Sun. I wasn’t letting my heart absorb the joy of the everchanging Sister Moon. My skin was not my own.

So, I shed.

I let my rotting leaves fall off and back into the ground. I allowed Mother Earth to absorb my old skin, the one that wasn’t meant for me. I embraced the warm hug of Father Sun on my new outer shell. And I let my soul feel the amazing gaze of Sister Moon.

I am an ever-changing being with a soul that’s been searching for a home.

When I came out as gay 6 years ago, I thought that was the end of my “coming out journey.” But I am ever-evolving. I am ever-growing. The forced femininity that my Italian/Irish Catholic roots begged for began to wear down on me. I painted myself in coats of all the things I thought I was supposed to be. But then I realized, the only thing the Universe needs me to be…is me.

I have entered a new season.

So, I guess this is me coming out again. Hi, my name is Megan, I’m gay, and my pronouns are She/They.