summer in the city

I spent the Fourth of July actively avoiding any sort of patriotic celebration. As a vocal anti-war activist and a never-Trumper, the whole display just makes me incredibly weary. Instead, I invited Faye, Logan, and Caden over for a small dinner. It was a mistake. I should have known better. I made a beautiful vegan spread for them—roasted vegetables, a gorgeous quinoa salad—but I dared to have a small piece of actual butter for my own bread. You would have thought I committed treason right there in my kitchen. Caden gave me a lecture on the dairy industry, which I already know everything about, and I finally had to snap back. I reminded them that as a cancer survivor, my relationship with food and my body is my own business, and my activism doesn’t have to look exactly like theirs. It got quiet after that. We eventually smoothed things over by watching old episodes of Charmed, but the tension lingered. I love my friends, I really do, but my non-binary, goth, vintage, non-vegan self is just too complicated for their strict rules sometimes.