Springing a leak - Despite all my efforts to maintain my reputation as "butch," most people know that I'm really a sensitive new age guy. It's not unusual that I get moved by things but every so often, I even catch myself off guard by something so ordinary.

This past week, the ordinary event involved my wallet. I went to grab my wallet to get something out, who knows, my bank card; a subway ticket. But, instead of finishing the task at hand, it hit me all at once. If I were thunked on the head and someone was going through my wallet to see who I was, they would have no idea that I'm from the U.S. There is no piece of i.d. left in my wallet to say anything other than I belong to Canada. In fact, except for my passport and a social security card that I haven't found since I hid it apparently too well when I moved, I have no U.S. identification left. You see, when I went to register for a driver's license and my car, they take all that stuff away. I have to admit, it was a little distressing at the counter when the woman took my NY driver's license and stuck it in a locked drawer.

So anyway, when this realization hit me, I found myself bawling. This was what I wanted, right? To live in Canada, to be with my partner in a place where I had health care and legal protections as a queer that most American queers could only hope for. So why was I snifflin' away like a kid who lost his blankie? Identity is a weird thing. I am who I am regardless of the card(s). But why did it feel like all of a sudden I was live without a net?

I don't have any answers to those questions yet but chatting with another ex-patriot/immigrant a few days later and explaining my breakdown to her, it seems like it's a normal reaction. She said she had almost the same emotional experience as me when they took her U.S. driver's license. She said she made herself feel better by digging up an old social security card and putting that in her wallet. Perhaps, this'll be the catalyst to push me to go through the last boxes of crap that made it over the border to find mine and do the same.

I was thinkin' that this whole "immigration" experience was wrapped up when I landed. What I'm realizing now is that while the "logistical" part is, the "emotional" transition is just beginning.