Remember,… way back in days of yore, when you could have a discussion and end it with the infuriatingly passive aggressive “agree to disagree?” The halcyon days when making drug addicts test for food stamps was something you and your cousins could disagree on without coming to blows. Well, this is a new era bitches. The simple days of entitlement reform and healthcare debates are a thing of the past.  Picture it, Astoria 2010. I was a deep thinker with integirty. I engaged thoughtfully and with an open mind. I was opinionated, sure, but I listened. There was promise on the horizon for me and my people. New York had just legalized gay marriage and the sparks of a national debate were beginning to burn bright. I had dealt with homophobia my entire life, whether it be the torment of children (I am no innocent in that area, either.) or the vitriol spewed by dear old Dad, and his third wife Merlyn. (Yes, her name is Merlyn.) I had learned from it, and transcended the emotions it inspire...

Dear Glampa! I’ll try to keep this to the point.  My daughter came out to me a couple of years ago, which was great. I was really happy she trusted me and had the confidence in our relationship to not be afraid to broach the subject. She and I have had a lot of conversations about attraction and love and the difference, and it’s led me to a lot of soul searching and realizing myself. See, I’ve never been a “labels” person, and I’ve always found myself attracted to what people held in their heads and hearts. I also had some deep, serious conversations with my partner and myself. I told someone for the first time that I’m not straight. I’ve never really thought about it, but I am attracted to men, women, nonbinary people, and trans people. I don’t really care what’s in their pants. All that to get to my question: is it necessary to come out to the world when I’m comfortable in myself and my partner knows what I’m into?  Thanks,  It’s Not About the Cookware Oh, Cooki...