My Story
My life has been one of a kind of quiet desperation, even though I'm not English :-/
Based on what I've been able to glean from the relevant parties (though I got rather different stories from my mom and dad) and a few flashes of what I take to be early memory, I believe my childhood played out a something of a test of Freud's theory of the Oedipal Complex.
When my dad left so early, in essence, I won, I got my mom all to myself. I was also accutely aware that in some way or other he was gone because of me, which was painful. To top it off, over time the mother I ended up with wasn't at all the perfect, magical, nururing being I'd bargained for.
She was needy, controlling, fearful, and narcissistic. I was a convenient emotional crutch when she needed one, usually when she wasn't in a relationship; easily set aside when she was. But expected always to be nearby, safe, predictable.
Her parents had a great role in raising me while she was in school. They were children of the Great Depression and were always focused on assuring material survival. Though they could appreciate creative works, they tended to look askance at anyone who made that their calling in the current age, too risky and the pay sucked.
Further my maternal grandfather was a highschool math and science teacher and was very instrumental in forming my early concepts of materialism and rationality. He also doted pretty shamelessly on my grandmother, which formed my early sense of what intimate relationships are supposed to be like; though with 20/20 hindsight I can now see how contolling (and, I suspect, fearful) he actually was. He was my main father figure growing up.
My father, when I got to see him (a few days once a year ususally), represented a sort of ideal of freedom to me. He was smart and creative (in a very restricted way I can now see), and didn't let anyone tell him what to do. I also felt very judged by him, and found wanting. I never felt like I was intellectual enough, or courageous enough, or handsome enough, or thin enough for him. I think he questioned many of my life choices, not least of which staying anywhere near New Orleans in general, or my mom in particular.
Maybe he was right about that last bit.
I've spent my life creating a cocoon of sorts, an environment of relative ease and conventionality that protects me from most of fortune's slings and arrows, as long as I keep dancing the requisite dances. But the process of creating that has insulated me from a great deal and my spirit feels trapped. It's like I've painted myself into a corner, built myself a prison, it's reasonably comfortable, there's few "intrusions", few inconveniences; but it remains basically a cage of my own making.
And sometimes the intrusions are the whole point!
In turning away from and denying many of my deeper, more creative and spontaneous impulses, I've reduced my life to a kind of drugery.
I spent a lot of my youth feeling ugly and unloveable, I despaired that anyone would want to be intimate with me. It didn't help when well meaning male friends tried to get me to act more macho, or "bro"-ish, or bad boy; being told that women don't like "soft" guys, that I needed to be more forward or pushy or I'd be alone.
The way I felt inside, how I wanted to be in a relationship, I thought of myself as a lesbian in a man's body. I could not inhabit those masculine mindsets for any length of time, I found them profoundly distasteful. I determined I'd rather be alone than be that untrue to something that felt so core to my being.
I've lately come back around to re-ask many questions of myself about the choices I've made; and am hitting the barriers of my self imposed cage.
Now I dare to dream that somehow there can be a pathway out; and an opportunity to explore all the heart and soul materials I've discarded in the pursuit of a numbing hull of normality.
So, here I am, more or less; the rest is mostly fiddly detail. :-/
Based on what I've been able to glean from the relevant parties (though I got rather different stories from my mom and dad) and a few flashes of what I take to be early memory, I believe my childhood played out a something of a test of Freud's theory of the Oedipal Complex.
When my dad left so early, in essence, I won, I got my mom all to myself. I was also accutely aware that in some way or other he was gone because of me, which was painful. To top it off, over time the mother I ended up with wasn't at all the perfect, magical, nururing being I'd bargained for.
She was needy, controlling, fearful, and narcissistic. I was a convenient emotional crutch when she needed one, usually when she wasn't in a relationship; easily set aside when she was. But expected always to be nearby, safe, predictable.
Her parents had a great role in raising me while she was in school. They were children of the Great Depression and were always focused on assuring material survival. Though they could appreciate creative works, they tended to look askance at anyone who made that their calling in the current age, too risky and the pay sucked.
Further my maternal grandfather was a highschool math and science teacher and was very instrumental in forming my early concepts of materialism and rationality. He also doted pretty shamelessly on my grandmother, which formed my early sense of what intimate relationships are supposed to be like; though with 20/20 hindsight I can now see how contolling (and, I suspect, fearful) he actually was. He was my main father figure growing up.
My father, when I got to see him (a few days once a year ususally), represented a sort of ideal of freedom to me. He was smart and creative (in a very restricted way I can now see), and didn't let anyone tell him what to do. I also felt very judged by him, and found wanting. I never felt like I was intellectual enough, or courageous enough, or handsome enough, or thin enough for him. I think he questioned many of my life choices, not least of which staying anywhere near New Orleans in general, or my mom in particular.
Maybe he was right about that last bit.
I've spent my life creating a cocoon of sorts, an environment of relative ease and conventionality that protects me from most of fortune's slings and arrows, as long as I keep dancing the requisite dances. But the process of creating that has insulated me from a great deal and my spirit feels trapped. It's like I've painted myself into a corner, built myself a prison, it's reasonably comfortable, there's few "intrusions", few inconveniences; but it remains basically a cage of my own making.
And sometimes the intrusions are the whole point!
In turning away from and denying many of my deeper, more creative and spontaneous impulses, I've reduced my life to a kind of drugery.
I spent a lot of my youth feeling ugly and unloveable, I despaired that anyone would want to be intimate with me. It didn't help when well meaning male friends tried to get me to act more macho, or "bro"-ish, or bad boy; being told that women don't like "soft" guys, that I needed to be more forward or pushy or I'd be alone.
The way I felt inside, how I wanted to be in a relationship, I thought of myself as a lesbian in a man's body. I could not inhabit those masculine mindsets for any length of time, I found them profoundly distasteful. I determined I'd rather be alone than be that untrue to something that felt so core to my being.
I've lately come back around to re-ask many questions of myself about the choices I've made; and am hitting the barriers of my self imposed cage.
Now I dare to dream that somehow there can be a pathway out; and an opportunity to explore all the heart and soul materials I've discarded in the pursuit of a numbing hull of normality.
So, here I am, more or less; the rest is mostly fiddly detail. :-/
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