Saturday, March 4, 2017

Parents process #52essays2017 week 10

I had always been a responsible child and form the age of 15 started working immediately in order to somewhat pay my own way. I would make $275 bi-weekly and I would offer my parents at least $100 of it. This was to curb the ultimate parents declarations of "You got money for that?" or "As long as I'm paying for you things I will get you whatever I see fit." This allowed me to buy my own clothes with my employee discount since I worked in retail. I was also driving as early as permit ready, and was trusted with the second car we owned, a white Ford Taurus.I would drive this car to work despite me having only a drivers permit. After being employed by the hospital shortly after, I was further independent with how used my money to support myself. . Once My parents left to their new home, and I stayed behind living with my aunt and family I was left the car under the condition that I pick up the insurance payment. I agreed and was able to keep the care to use and maintain at my own leisure at 18/19 years old.

During this time of figuring out myself,I had played moments of my coming out over and over. It fueled a deep seeded rage I had that I was so powerless and cared so much what my parents thought of me. It would be another two years of me only seeing my parents once a month as I would have them off an envelope full of money for Geico. It was short hellos, how are you's and swift goodbyes as we were genuinely comfortable around each other. Even at the time of writing this I cannot remember if it was my discomfort of their lack of acknowledgement over one of the most emotional wrecking experiences I had at their hands or that I interpreted their nonchalant behavior as a going through motions to patronize me. All I know is I dreaded going to see them and all because the interaction was so inorganic and felt like there was always a pink elephant in the room dancing point in a pink and black polka dot Tutu with a tiara made of marshmallows and rhinestones that we would never look at let alone talk about.

At the time I believe I was 20/21 yrs old and I was dating someone who told me I needed to see one of his favorite movies, Torch Song Trilogies. HONEY!!! I am an Old Gay at Heart and this movie blessed me to the core. The most poignant scene for me was the ending scene where Harvey Fierstein mourns the loss of his lover, Mathew Broderick. His mother played by Anne Bancroft was heading to her husbands grave to pay respects, and Harvey had it in his mind to also go and mourn his late lover by doing the jewish mourning prayers a wife honors her husbands memory with. She huffed and puffed and went back home to his house where she stayed as his guest. His mother not understanding or acknowledging her sons relationship as existent let alone something to mourn, turns on him and in turn he defends himself from her verbally as he justifies his relationship not just with his late lover but with himself and his mother. This was a moment where he confronts his Mother and best friend turned attacker when he exclaims to her the words that changed my life forever.

"Look ma IM gay. I don't know why I don't think anyone does. That's what I know, I know as far back as I could remember back before I knew it was different or even wrong... I know you rather I was straight. IM not! Would you also rather I lied to you? My friend Ed, he would never dream of telling his parents. Instead he cut his parents out of his life, and his parents wondered why. Why is my child so distant? Is that what you rather? You want to be part of my life I'm not editing out the things you don't like. .. Theres one more thing you better understand. I have taught myself to sew, cook, fix plumbing, build furniture and even pat myself on the back when necessary. All so I don't have to ask anyone for anything. There is nothing I need from anyone except for love and respect. And anyone that can't give me those two things has no place in my life. You're my mother I love you, I do.. but if you cant respect me you have no business being here."

BABY!!!!! I am still HOLY GHOST BUCKING in my living room as I write this. A ball of emotion as this brilliant dialogue did what art is supposed to do. It stirred and built up such an emotion in me that I was invigorated to do or say something to shift my situation. I could not know what the shift would do or the outcome it would inspire but I knew I had to say something to the dreadful silence of the unsaid. I was carrying too much anger, and shame that I desperately tried to block out with some of the good things in life I had found about myself.

I was in a show at the time, Seussical the musical and I was headed to rehearsal and took advantage of the long travel time to call my mother and have a real conversation. I felt all the emotion in my voice as I asked my mother if she thought our interaction for the last few years was authentic and or normal. She tried to feign ignorance but I would not stand for it. This was going to be a real conversation no masks, no faking of the funk. I for once stood in my power and reminded her (much like Harvey in his EPIC Dialogue) that I was happy and experiencing many things in my life that I would love to share with my parents and loved one and I also been through hell in many other areas of my life that I would never be able to share with them and it hurt me to the deepest parts of myself. I told her I refused to edit my life for anyone and that all I needed was love and respect which all I ever offered them in my existence. I reminded her that what her and my father did was atrocious and there were may other things said and did that I hated and would never agree with, however I found the ability to love them beyond that and embrace who they are and at this point in my life I needed them to do the same. If they could not then there was no need to further talk or interact and I could simply mail them any further payments. This broke her open and she shed tears and apologized and I received her pain. I was open and cracked myself the emotions pouring out of me and leaving a void of which I took whatever my mother in her mutual vulnerable state was willing to share.

She explained to me since holding me in her arms as a child she felt the overwhelming love only a mother could feel. I was the only product of her happy marriage with my father and her regret was not being able to give him even more children after myself. She reminded me how happy my father was to have a son, because his brothers all had daughters and the Sosa name was left with m to pass on. She further explained that throughout the yeas of supporting me best they could as a youth they could not help but envision my graduations, my courting of a nice young lady, my marriage and then the gift of grandchildren and hopefully the little black baby my mother always told me she hoped and expected me to give her. She told me there were many times when she knew I was different than she cared to admit and how I would help pick out her outfits and my exceptional taste in doing so, or how sometimes if men came around that even she found attractive how I would become nervous and bewildered ot how they say in the south, "Caught the vapors." She explained to me that to find out I was any other way than what was planned for me or expected of me it was like a death or sever transition that was just too much too soon. It left her feeling angry at herself. Did she do something wrong? Was there something she did that made me this way? Would I end up being the lonely gay man she always encountered in her life, devoid of a loving partner or sick with some chronic and fatal disease?

As my mother began to speak to me I also remembered a quick and important conversation I had with my father who at one point before I came out, which was spurred by his inability to see me as anything else other than a child. He told me to be patient with him and my mother as they only knew me for the last 17 or so years as their child. I was dependent on them for everything adhering to all their rules and structure and that for me to just one day be grown enough to think and do for myself was not something that just automatically uploaded into their psyche. They needed time ot process this and then act accordingly.

It was then I realized this whole experience while mostly centered on me was not entirely about me. This was a part of the coming out I would never fully understand or empathize with as I was not a parent. I did not know this particular loss or process and only knew my own in relation to the event. It was then something softened in my heart for my parents, this was the vulnerability that led to honest conversation that I needed. I needed to know they felt something during this process and that it was as monumental as what I felt I endured.
Compassion took over and from that moment on me and my mother as well as my father started mending our relationship to the fine place it is.


Below is the clip and the conversation really picks up @ 2 mins and 16 secs in.

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