Published September 24, 2018

Nestled in my Sunday evening post about “Moonstruck” was a reference to the event that prompted it: a ROAR Fierce Female storytelling night in Vancouver, Washington. There, my world expanded even smaller, which is an understated way of saying it.

Mind blown is more like it.

Each of the women told powerful stories about their life journeys, which I’d expected, but I wasn’t ready for what happened when the third speaker took the stage. Cat Christ, the last storyteller before intermission, already had us hooked with her gripping narrative when she mentioned growing up on Virginia Street. As my mind was scrolling back to the only Virginia Street in its archives, she said the words that were registering in my memory banks as my ears were hearing her say them: “in Lake Charles, Louisiana.”

Wait, what? Did she say Lake Charles? She did, right?

I immediately wanted to call a timeout and say, “I’m from Lake Charles!” (Don’t worry. I didn’t. But I couldn’t wait to talk with her during the intermission.)

It wasn’t just that she was from my hometown. It wasn’t just that she was from my neighborhood. It was that she’d lived one street over from me, the one immediately to the south of the one where I lived for nearly the first 15 years of my life. I told her that when she mentioned Virginia Street, my first thought was Lake Charles, and that when she then said the name of the city …

“I heard you gasp,” she said when we talked. Yes, that happened. It was that electric a moment.

I told her that I grew up on Tulane Street. We were both awestruck by the unexpected connection. There was a line of people waiting to talk with her, so I kept the conversation as brief a possible, but we talked a little bit about things we have in common, and how significant being at a ROAR event was for me. I’m one week away from the first anniversary of my public coming out as a transgender woman, so this is a special, emotional time for me. Hearing “Virginia Street” and “Lake Charles, Louisiana” was so out of the blue, I was still processing it when I spoke with her. After hearing a bit of my story, she asked if she could give me a hug. It was a warm embrace, and in some ways, a coming home I hadn’t foreseen.

The rest of the night was surreal, and my awareness and energy exploded with wonder and the recognition of yet another unexpected connection to my past, which has happened here in the Pacific Northwest a lot more than I could have imagined. It’s especially occurred quite often since my rebirth as Carly. So it seemed only fitting, then, that the night ended with the story of a woman whose gender journey more closely mirrored mine.

This night roared in unpredictable ways. My intention was to be fully present rather than try to take pictures from the slideshow beforehand or take notes on the different stories, so I kept my phone in my purse the whole time. I’m so glad I did. (It’s possible I will update this post with video clips as they become available. Meanwhile, here’s the video we watched before the five speakers took turns telling their stories.)

For now, let the section of the map of Lake Charles above show how close I came to my childhood on this Sunday night, and how on this night I met a fellow traveler from Lake Charles who may well have crossed paths with me with decades ago. Because of the age difference and her family’s move overseas during her childhood, there wasn’t much overlap of our respective time on Tulane and Virginia streets, but who knows? Perhaps we passed each other coming and going from the Little Store, or at Brentwood Park, or maybe Henry Heights. It’s fun to imagine nearly 21 years after I moved away from Lake Charles.

When I told her, halfway through my first ROAR event, that I was meant to be there on this night, she agreed. She asked if I were on social media, and we connected a few hours later.

I’ve told you about only a few minutes of the two-plus hours at this incredible event, but please know that I was hooked from the start. I got a hug before it started from a woman who reconnected with me after the show, a hug from Cat, a warm reception from Erika Worth, the executive producer and curator of ROAR and Girls ROAR, and several compliments about my blouse, my Wonder Woman purse and my fingernails. I event met a good friend of the woman who owns the shop where I get them done, and she took a photo of my hands to send along to Glynis! And the stories! Five strong, beautiful women summoned the courage and the selflessness to share intimate, powerful details of their lives and loss and heartbreak and growth and, ultimately, self-love and acceptance.

And as my world once again did that thing where it gets bigger and smaller at the same time, it was a night that, for me, lived up to the theme of the show.

Wild.