

Discover more from All Mixt Up
GOOD MORNING TO YOU!!!
I’ve been (overthinking) for a while what to write about this month, and then realized that the thing most on my mind has been right in front of me this whole time. That’s right, folks. This post is dedicated to my baby daddy, Sam Kenneth Walker, on his birthday, in honor of his 32 years (or as he likes to say, his 33rd year) on this speck of dust floating in space.
Sam… this one’s for you.
I’m honestly feeling a little nervous to write about Sam, because I often have this urge to keep his goodness all to myself. I know, I know, scarcity mindset, there is enough Sam to go around. But I don’t think you understand. Sam, at his highest vibration, the vibration I am so fortunate to experience on a daily basis, is pure magic.
I’ve never met anyone who embodies both the oldest and youngest spirits all in one, quite like Sam. He is often described as “so solid,” by others, and while I agree, he is also so fluid and expansive. Sam is Passionate with a capital P. When he loves something, he loves it deeply and loyally. He is not just a foodie, but someone who regularly falls in love with food. Watching him eat a bowl of spaghetti bolognese honestly feels a little naughty - like I’m being voyeuristic to a lifelong love affair. When he cooks, he is in such a natural flow state, that I feel bad interrupting his trance when I ask trivial questions like, do we need a bowl or plate for this meal?
When I first met Sam, I thought he was a bit of a wallflower. In fact, the first night we met, he was leaning against a wooden wall of the Wesleyan campus bar, the Nest, chivalrous in his invitation to others to take up more space. Not gonna lie, I was kinda digging the chivalry. Oops. While I felt us locking eyes early on in the night, it wasn’t until I mentioned that I transferred from NYU that his spirit perked up. “What do you have against New York City?” he asked, half accusatory, half genuinely confused. I later learned that it wasn’t just that New York City was Sam’s home, it was his IV drip. Sam is a New Yorker down to his blood - I’m convinced it courses at a faster level than other people’s, with little patience for slow walkers or inefficiency. His heart, like the city, is so full, and also constantly pumping on a mega fast-paced frequency to hold the many multitudes of his desires.
Sam is most definitely not a wallflower. Anyone who has ever been in a car or at a Rangers game with him knows, that he can be quite reactive, sometimes to a fault. But at his core, Sam is an extremely thoughtful person. While he may get heated in a moment of stress, he always, eventually cools down. I feel like Sam is often striving towards al dente energy - to be firm and delicious, with a slight bite. He avoids being so soft that he loses all his texture and is on the verge of turning to mush. And honestly, I love him for it.
Sam sees the potential in….everything. This became utterly clear to me when we went through our first home renovation together. Whereas I could not care less about the tiny details of the project, Sam was transfixed on them. The ways that tiny screws would connect to bigger bolts that would eventually create a door or wall was so fascinating to him. He reveled in watching something be built from the ground up.
Sam saw the potential in me, from very early on, in our relationship. I really believe he holds the code to my living in alignment algorithm. He bears witness to my dreams, offers up tools to connect those dreams to tangible actions, and is always assisting me in producing lasting results.
But don’t get it twisted. Sam is a dreamer too. Even though he is often hard on himself for not being the fastest one to decipher his dream states, he is constantly building the inner paths and infrastructure for a bolder, more beautiful universe to inhabit.
Sam has taught me how to welcome parts of my whiteness into my narrative, while we work together and separately to dismantle the parts of ourselves that are tied to violence and supremacy. He strives to be what Brandon Goodman describes as people who happen to be white rather than white people. He shows me that whiteness can often times be clumsy, corny and confusing. He has taught me that white men suffer too, and it’s okay for me to be tender with them while still demanding they do better. He has taught me that every single part of myself is loveable, but loving something does not mean you always have to agree with it wholeheartedly.
Sam has taught me that I feel safe in consistency. A prompt text back, a plan in motion, reliable support, are all gestures that ease my fears of abandonment. I credit Sam with these skills, but I also want to celebrate his parents for instilling them in Sam. Since becoming a parent, I see how much babies learn from observation. Not to be dramatic, but every single one of our behaviors communicates something to our children. From everything I know and what I have witnessed first-hand, Sam’s parents have always demonstrated love as a verb. They communicate their love in their actions — their unwavering commitment to each other and others has a positive ripple effect on so many people. Thank you Susan and Bart for nourishing and raising such a special human being.
I want to celebrate how naturally fatherhood comes to Sam. From the moment he met Wes, it felt like our ancestors all applauded, witnessing two beautiful souls reuniting after searching for each other for a long time. I also want to make space for Sam to be more than just a Dad. I often see Sam taking on an older brother role in his relationships with friends. While this may fill a void in being an only child and longing for a sibling, I want Sam to experience what it feels like to be the younger brother, too. To be guided, mentored, and mirrored by someone who has already gone through it. I want Sam’s friends to be the ones who make a plan for the group. I want Sam’s friends to take pleasure out of cooking meals for him, and reaching out when it’s been a while since they’ve last spoken. I want Sam’s friends to call him in when he’s being more distant and avoidant.
I realize while writing this, that Sam has always encouraged me to take up space. And while I recognize the value and deep meaning behind that invitation, I also want to invite Sam to take up more space. Not in a patriarchal sense. In fact, I want Sam to divorce from the patriarchy. I want to bare witness to a version of Sam’s masculinity that is not tied to political, social or economic inequality. I want Sam to break up with the idea that his self-worth is at all tied to what he does to make money. I want Sam to see capitalism as a really manipulative bully. But I want Sam to take up more space in an elemental sense. I want his feelings and their complexities to spread far and wide, to be known and cared for by others. I want Sam to find other men who want to hold space for him. Not just in a sports bar or via text, but in their hearts too. I want Sam to be surrounded by men who don’t find it weird or uncomfortable to hold space in their hearts for each other.
Dearest Sam - I want all of this and more for you on your 32nd year on earth. I want you to know that I see you, I honor you, and I cherish you. Birthdays can bring up a lot of feels, and that’s okay. I celebrate you in all of your feels today and always.
Love,
Jesse