Here I am, playing dress up at my Grandma Ginger's house. She was an amazing 'actress' type who had closets full of shoes and fur coats that I salivated over.
|"I wasn't allowed to actually put her clothes on, but..."|
And I knew that her Roberto Cavali gowns were off limits.
Looking back on this photo, I find it funny that she cared about the Cavalis and not the shoes my dirty, little feet would slip so delicately into?
After all, aren't a woman's shoes her pride and joy??
My grandma passed away before I came out, but in my heart I know she not only knew, but loved me all the more for it. I think she was also kind of excited for me, and quietly sad that she wouldn't be around to go out and hit the town with me.
When we, as a society, speak about generations and how they're programmed to react to the unfamiliar, the example of my grandma always comes to mind.
I find it a hard sell to say 'generations' just exist like that.
We are ALL individuals - in our gayness, in our straightness, in our open-mindedness. And in our ability to love and accept others. That is the only thing that will set us free!!!