
I’m the life of the party.
(Please, do not take offense anyone who I conversed with at said party. This was my baggage I was fighting, not yours.)
The version of masculinity I grew up with was one that was modeled by a man with forearms like Popeye, covered in grease and ink, who worked on tractors, who called me “honey,” and cried every time he heard me sing a solo.
Strength, compassion, loyalty, and sacrifice.
I hope to one day be half the father he was to me.
Adjusting to the seating arrangements during the Portland World Naked Bike Ride required some … adjustment.