It’s real easy for me to get overwhelmed and not update this place nearly as often as I should…I get swept up in life events; especially if a lot of things happen at once…And so I decide "oh, I’ll update later…" But then something ELSE happens that needs talking about…And so forth…Until eventually I pile up a huge inbox of stuff to write about that just keeps looming larger and larger until even looking in it’s direction becomes discouraging.
The worst part about that inbox is that once I eventually get around to scribing here, my mind’s no longer fresh from the experience…A bunch of stuff gets left out and it’s never as great a post as it would have been, had I updated immediately. Bah…One day I’ll learn. Maybe by then, I will be a professional writer. Which is still the goal. SO. Being a writer-in-training, I should probably start by writing, shouldn’t I? Especially since I didn’t pay for a nice, shiny Premium account just so it could collect dust in this lonesome corner of the internet.
So the first thing I want to update is about the final major step in coming out that I took in March; last month. I ended up going to Delaware over spring break for a week; got to see my good friends Jeremiah and Maria Fargo; which mitigated some of the drama that I faced that trip…Wait, let me start from the beginning…
So I decided to see my father for the first time in..Wow, 6? 7 years? It’s been a long time. I saw him briefly during my college graduation, because for some strange reason, my mother decided to invite him without telling me until the last minute…Well ok, I know it was a reconciliation gesture towards my father, BUT the fact that she left him out of the loop in regards to tickets to the ceremony made it a minor drama-fest…But ANYWAYS; water under the bridge…What isn’t necessarily, is that even before then, when I was 18, my father exploded at my brother and I one day over what he perceived to a lie of some sort…Not really sure what it was he saw. But he sat us down at the table, and without any warning, exploded in our faces. Screaming, shouting, sweat pouring down his face as he invoked the wrath of God down on our unsuspecting, heathen heads. It was emotional abuse in the purest sense, and after years of that, I decided I was old enough to decide *not* to see him again, to never dread another visitation if I didn’t want to go. And so began the long separation.
Backstory complete. Mostly. So I went to see my father in March. It was about what I expected; he was extremely cautious at first, tentative, as was I. But we quickly warmed up and hit it off just fine; we bonded over Cajun gumbo, various Hi-Def movies (Wall-E…Up…I know where I get my taste in movies, that’s for sure!), sushi, and general conversation. But a critical problem remained; the differences in our respective life philosophies. I get not only my taste in movies from him…He’s also bent towards the sciences and has an inquisitive, philosophical mind. However, he’s a dyed-in-the-wool Christian…Overwhelmingly so. To the point where he uses Jesus as punctuation. We can be talking about Cheerios and somehow Jesus will get thrown into the conversation…And that’s annoying, frankly, because I feel like I’m being beaten over the head with his ideas and I try not to do that kind of thing to other people. But even on our first visit in years, he couldn’t resist preaching to me…And so he asked for 10 minutes of my time. Which I gave to him, so he could teach me about Jesus’ plans for salvation.
The conversation went about as well as I expected. He threw the standard lines they use in all the airport flyers Christians give…My main arguement was why does an all-loving God require me to acknowledge him, but that kept getting skipped over. And eventually frustration set in, first me, then him…And he asked me about my ideas (surprisingly). And so I told him how I believe consciousness is the precursor to all and I believe we forge our own destinies unconsciously…But harnessing that power is within our grasp, if we have the will to do so. Self-empowerment type bullshit. And he said (tellingly) that he didn’t understand why I gave the Buddhist philosophy so much respect…And it hit me that that was what he was really looking for. It may incidentally be for the good of my soul, but winning me over really would be an acknowledgment of the righteousness of his ideas, and a self-gratification. However, my response was that I respect them because Buddhists generally don’t feel the need to proselytize…Which was a hint that the conversation was over. Which was understood.
But then I felt the need to open a second can of worms and get an issue off my own chest. So I asked him what he thought of me being gay. His response was basically that he would always love me for who I was, however he felt that I hadn’t really given women enough of a chance and that perhaps there were some mental issues that I could address in that department. A tentative suggestion that it was a choice, really. I respected his tentativeness, really. It was a sign of respect for me, and so I did my best not to be argumentative as I explained my side of the story. I told him that there’s little reason for me to ever choose to grow up missing my sexual developmental years over fear and anxiety of being ostracized, and I think he understood.
Whether or not I changed his mind, I don’t know. But progress was made that visit; a lot, and there was little reason to press the envelope further. So we agreed to disagree…But I was pretty annoyed after I left, and I shared a bit of that with Jeremiah and Maria when I saw them after visiting my father, but before seeing my mother and stepfather. Which is a story that will have to wait for another post.
Phew! One item removed from the ever-growing pile of experiences to catch up on…Hang on, LJ readers..Turbotroll ain’t dead just yet!