Allyship won’t flirt with you from across the bar |
Spanish Guy and I walked out of a bar on Valencia Street, hands brushing, almost holding. I like a guy to make the first move. The sounds of percussion instruments growing louder surprised us as we made our way down the street toward a group of salsa musicians. He didn’t know how to dance. I did and wasn’t shy about it. A musician spun me as I laughed. If this was San Francisco, I wasn’t sure I was ready to leave.
I was 24. We met in Los Angeles two months earlier. He was in town just long enough to see the Hollywood sign and start up a Pacific Coast Highway situationship with me. Spanish Guy had been living in San Francisco for only a few months and wasn’t sure he wanted to stay. He was, however, sure he wanted a serious relationship. At first, I didn’t think there was a point to keeping in touch, then I figured I might as well have a reason to smile when my phone buzzed.
I used to think I liked being vulnerable. That it came easily to me. I’d play with it, like when you quickly pass your fingers through a flame. I don’t think it was real vulnerability, real intimacy. That doesn’t happen as often as we’d like it to, but there is something that feels familiar to vulnerability that we can keep at arms length.
Being vulnerable gets scarier as you get older, which is funny considering that’s when you have more control over your life. Maybe the control we have is what makes it scarier. Maybe it’s also being a part of a world that feels increasingly polarized, more........