Few people in my comfortable, middle-class, mini-van driving, liberal bubble in NE Portland know that my legal initials are B.A.d., or that my name, Berengaria Ariadne deMotier, was self-created during the years when I was an angry late adolescent in Seattle, ready to throw the baby out with the bathwater regarding my origins and eager to make myself unfindable by my mentally ill father. Egotistically, I thought it would look good on paintings or book covers, and it furthered my self-image by announcing to the world that I wasn't a "nice girl."
But B.A.d. I remain, the formerly-Laura in there somewhere safely nestled beneath years of Beren and happily so.
In future blogs I hope to tackle myriad subjects, including:
The role of fear in a healthy life
A word from the back burner on same-sex marriage
Why a mini-van is a mom's best friend
Why "that's so gay" is not OK
Dealing with a boy's "junk" during athletics
Smallville- capturing eloquently what it feels like to be seventeen
My addiction to the Oregon Humane Society website
No More Mrs. Nice Gay
Better living through chemistry
The Massachussetts same-sex married couple who split
The odd circumstance of knowing my friends wouldn't have let their kids play with me, when I was their age. Where does caution merit judgment and discrimination?
Check back soon.