We are more alike my friends…

I have not forgotten about Jessica.  The second part of her story is coming, not to worry.

Sometimes detours are necessary.


Gloucester Fisherman’s Memorial in Gloucester, Massachusetts (Photo by: Tracy Smith)

Yesterday, I spent a good part of my day sitting in a booth at Panera with a gay woman.  I was looking forward to listening to Jess share how it feels to be otherized by people in society because of her sexuality.

This is something I know nothing about and I was eager to learn.  With my list of questions typed out, notebook open and pen in hand, I mentally shifted into journalist mode.

What I quickly realized was that woven between the questions and answers, we found ourselves laughing hysterically at one another’s jokes.  I talked about how my husband used to have a mullet and she shared how gorgeous her wife is.

We talked about our dreams and fears and our faith.  We covered politics and women’s issues.  And we both found ourselves tearing up when we discussed sensitive matters.

Although we were meeting to talk about the one difference between us – her sexuality – I found that we are more alike than different.

But isn’t it these singular differences that sometimes become hurdles that prevent us from actually getting to know other people?

Which reminds me of one of my favorite commercials.



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