Have you ever listened to the podcast Heavyweight? It is described as “a podcast about turning points, finding answers to enduring questions and reckoning with the past.”
I first listened to this podcast while sipping coffee in bed on a Sunday morning, my body sticky sweaty from the night’s slumber; something anyone who shares a bed with me knows is inevitable. The cool air from the open window was intermittently dusting the smell of incense we were burning up my nose; a smell to this day that still brings me back to the forever-ness feeling of those moments. We listened to the familiar opening score, scootching under the bed sheets as we anticipated the story to be told. I knew at some point my tears would need to be caught and my forehead kissed. This podcast has always done it to me.
I have listened on and off since those Sunday morning retreats, but today (also a Sunday), I was feverishly cleaning my house. I needed something in my headphones as I focussed on the neglected basement that has recently served as a dumping ground for winter blankets and bags of unused cat litter.
I looked at my Spotify history and Heavyweight sat comfortably between My Dad Wrote a Porno and Modern Love. I clicked and randomly scrolled until I hit episode #36 – Brandon. I hit play and started my decent to the bottom floor of my quiet and disorganized house.
I made it three minutes in and found myself sitting comfortably on the damp and long uninhabited couch, my two cats following me to see if today was litter box clean out day (it wasn’t). I listened with intention. I wish there was someone here to catch my tears.
It’s hard to decide what theme I loved more – high school; self identifying as a misfit; feeling alone; questioning the why of things from our past; maybe it was because I had recently attended my 25th high school reunion and this story’s protagonist and supporting characters could have easily been replaced by any one of us in attendance that night.
What I realized as I sat with one cat purring on my lap and the other laying flat on her back at my feet as though she was posing for her portrait, it was how the ending was wrapped.
The host asked Brandon’s now wife: “What do you make of Brandon’s question over the years; why did Alley ask him to the prom in the first place?”, to which Megan replied, “It didn’t have to be a mystery. It makes perfect sense to me that somebody that looks like Alley could like the person she is standing next to; You (Brandon).”
The host continued, “Brandon says the biggest difference between his two proms (one in high school and one as a chaperone with his wife 15 years later) was that with Megan (wife) he didn’t spend the whole night wondering why the person by his side had chosen him. He’s just happy she did.”
As I sit here at my dining room table, slowly and passionately eating a slice of multi-layered rainbow cake and sipping on tea, my Sunday is disappearing quickly. I am wondering what about this episode has left me feeling both uneasy and overwhelmingly hopeful. I listened to the last 4 minutes of that podcast over and over again, massive tears streaming down my cheeks as my already smeared mascara evident around my eyes from last night’s Top Gun Maverick viewing.
The source of Brandon’s wonder back during his senior year was borne out of his insecurities of being overweight, coming from a family where both parents were deaf and not seeing himself as others saw him. He was brave enough to start down the road to not only finding Alley 15 years after his prom, but, in a soft, gentle and awkward way, ask her “why me?”
This feels so familiar to me and probably to you, too.
The wondering why or why not we are chosen, loved, fought for or considered are all real emotions and mind fuckery we can easily fall victim to.
I recently fell in love – have I shared that? It ended as quickly as it happened. I have wondered, daily almost, if it was me or them; if I showed up too honestly or not enough; if I dreamed all of it and woke up with no evidence of it even happening. I now wonder if there will be a time I don’t have to wonder any more. If how I show up in the world will be enough, that the body I struggle with will be loved and accepted, if the story in my head will eventually fade away, replaced with a new one.
Brandon has shown me that finding a voice is not only important, but using it to find answers to the big and not so big questions of our past is necessary. Remaining curious is a big part of this.
Why did they fall out of love?
Why did they not want it as much as you did?
Why does Mr. Noodles always seem like a viable mid-afternoon snack?
I am so grateful to have heard Brandon’s story today. And I am equally glad Alley had all the right answers for you, debunking all the worry and malevolent reasons why she stood next to you that night, 15 years ago.
Hope is not a strategy, action is. Talking is, Asking is. Changing is. And getting what you truly deserve is.
What are you wondering today that could change your tomorrow? I hope you ask.
I’m going to teach myself how to ride my new roller skates now. How’s that for action?
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