My Weekend Crush

It’s my blog and I’ll post about Jodie Foster twice in one week if I want to. Fifteen years ago Jodie was my very first Weekend Crush. She’s kind of my Forever Crush, as she was perhaps the first female celebrity I found myself following obsessively (which, bad word choice given her unfortunate history with fanatics — but I promise my obsession is largely academic and sedentary.) And I am struck by how the magnificent architecture of her face has aged into an elegant enduring monument of her life experiences. Her ice-blue eyes are as sharp as ever, and the lines are a reminder of where she’s been. From that Coppertone baby to a happily married gay woman with a distinguished career. Honestly, what I think I’m happiest about is how her face now reveals more joy. Sure, she’s not crazy effusive. But there’s an almost impish spark amid the ever-present toughness. Before — back when her private life was private and you’d never see her walking down the red carpets with her actual partner — there was a hardness behind that toughness. A guard that was never dropped. Now, clearly, I could be all projecting. I don’t know Jodie, obviously, and am not privy to the intricacies of her inner life. But I’ve known a lot of people pre and post coming out and the relief and ease that comes with time is palpable. I guess, in the end, that’s the eternal power of coming out. The energy we waste not being ourselves is energy we could have spent just enjoying our lives. Happy weekend, all.