Authentic me, respectful we

Creamed corn? No, no, no. I won’t eat it. But I’ll share a meal where creamed corn is served. I’ll even hold the serving bowl as you scoop some onto your plate.

I don’t have to understand your appreciation of creamed corn. But I must acknowledge and respect you. Enjoy your corn.

You favor Garth Brooks’ music? Yeah, I lean toward Harry Chapin. I don’t have to understand or like your music. But I must acknowledge and respect you.

You rise late most mornings and retire late most nights? Not I. I’m up early and out by 10 p.m. I don’t have to share or understand your biorhythms. But I must acknowledge and respect you.

Your pronouns don’t match my expectations? Got it. I don’t have to understand your sense of yourself. But I must acknowledge you. I must respect you.

My identities range from silly to profound – from creamed corn to gender. Together, they are my authentic me. All of them. I welcome your acknowledgement and respect.

Same for you and your identities. All of them. Acknowledgement and respect.