Vacations, FOMO and coming out

Hello everyone. After a year of living in a pandemic, I can honestly say I need a fucking vacation. There is nothing like staying home for extended periods of time to make you wish you could go somewhere. But what I have realized is that, other than being around my friends, I’m good with not being in or around crowds.

Now don’t get me wrong: I would love to go to a concert and see some of my favorite bands or performers. But even then I prefer to be on the fringe of the crowd, not right in the center. Actually, being in one of those suites they have at the American Airlines center would be perfect for me.

I wouldn’t exactly say it is anxiety-based; it’s just overwhelming having people around me 360. I need my back against a wall, so I don’t feel like I need to watch over my shoulder constantly. Maybe in a former life I was a gangster, ripe with paranoia.

Lately, the idea of my perfect vacation has changed … well, let’s say, evolved. A cabin in the woods, miles away from any other people, would be ideal. So if I wanted to walk through the woods naked I could.
For the record: I’m never going to walk through the woods naked; bugs, tree bark, animals — none of that screams, “Let’s get naked!” to me.

And I sure as hell won’t be skinny-dipping anywhere that isn’t a swimming pool. We were at Joe Pool Lake last year, and these fucking little perch wouldn’t stop nipping at our nipples. I sure don’t need them nipping at my bits. Just the thought of it freaks me out. Plus, in South America somewhere they have little fish that swim up your pee-pee hole! What if they migrate or get brought here by some super villain hellbent on penis destruction?

Nope! Not me!

But it would be nice to be alone in the woods with just my husband. Okay — maybe a few friends, too, but no more than, like, 10 or 11 — under the stars, in front of a bonfire, drunk on good wine. Truthfully, we should have done that during the pandemic.

All of this talk about being alone away from everyone and everything has made me realize how badly I suffer from FOMO. (That means “Fear of Missing Out,” for those who might not know.) Let me revise my earlier statement: I would love to be away from the maddening crowds but still have access to WIFI. That way I could still keep up on what is going on in the world and stuff. My luck, I’d have a week away and come back to some big news that I missed, like, “CITIES OVERUN BY GIANT SPIDERS!” And I wouldn’t know how to kill them because I was off social media. Typical.

I’d love to have my own island — a small one with plenty of fruit and fish for when we run out of snacks and provisions. Sidenote: Possible name for a drag show, “FRUIT AND FISH.”

It would have huts, like on Gilligan’s Island, but the bedrooms would be raised and closed off — no sand allowed. Once a week, local tradesmen would stop by to sell or trade their wares: “Oh, thank you kind sir! I did not know I needed a basket made from shells and coconuts, but now I can’t imagine my life without it. In trade, I can style a wig for you … No? Okay. Do you take debit cards?”

You see, I really do need a vacation. I sound crazy.

As most of you know, this little ol’ column of mine started as an advice column, and from time-to-time people still send in questions or ask for advice on a subject. The truth is, most of the advice seekers ask such similar questions that I just send them an email and never publish the interaction. You’d be surprised how many questions I get asked about open relationships and about coming out.

Seriously, many of you have the very same problems. In the part two years, I have had at least three letters from people asking advice on what to do when their longtime partner won’t tell their parents or family about their relationship. All three were struggling with their partner not coming out publicly with their relationship.

It surprises me that there are still folks living in the closet, but my answer is always the same for them. They have to come out on their terms, in their time. Outing someone is never the right answer, no matter how frustrating the situation.

On the other hand, being called a “roommate” when you have been in a long-term relationship seems to shit all over what the two of you have built. Loving someone out and proud means something, and your significant other deserves that.

When it comes to family, I know it can be a hard decision, and — while not everyone likes to hear this — it is okay to close the door on toxic, selfish relationships. Even if that relationship is with a parent. Your relationship with your mom or dad will be a journey. Sometimes it takes years to get to a place of acceptance; sometimes it never happens. You should give them time to come to terms with you being gay. Give them as much time as it took for you to accept yourself.

Y’all, I am still here for advice if you need me. Just send me an email at askcassienova@gmail.com.

Remember to always love more bitch less and be fabulous! XOXO, Cassie Nova