This week’s win

I know I’m jinxing it by even saying so, but the fact that our brand-new puppy Zev Bialy Costanza has not had a single accident in the house feels gratifying and exciting. We brought her home on Wednesday from the two darling corgis who gave birth to Lemonade almost three years ago.

Happiness today is the ease with which the nun gives me his phone number. Paul is an old friend, or really an old friend of my ex, and we haven’t spoken in eight years.

I had emailed him late last year, missing our kitchen table conversations over coffee and cigarettes. His enormous house, a former school, functioning as his private art studio / gallery. He had replied right away, saying “my phone number is still the same”.

As soon as she hands you the gift
you know it’s another one
“Trans Life Survivors”
says the cover
“Merry Christmas!”
says your sister
you have only been using
they/them pronouns
in private
for a year or so
it’ll look so beautiful next to
the ex-gay book
your other sister presented to you
on your birthday last month

At family dinner you
spend bathroom breaks in your
childhood bedroom
five in total
logging on to talk to us
about how the heavy things feel
being the punching bag
on which your 11-year-old cousin
practises her right hook
screaming fire about
her trans classmate
stings
and
it stings
like a shattered jaw

I offered this confession as part of my confirmation into the Mennonite Church of Haarlem. While I recognize a few details that make me chuckle or cringe, much of what I believe today is reflected in the words below. At the time, I believed this church was the most at-home I would ever be able to feel at church. After I moved away to Amsterdam, and after years of being a spiritual nomad, I discovered All Saints.