Family: The Binds That Tie (Introduction)

Greetings! If you've been paying attention, you've probably noticed by now that an unprecedented amount of personal information has been becoming publicly available via the Internet. I don't mean social security numbers, credit card numbers, home addresses or telephone number - I mean truly meaningful personal information. Things that tell the world who we really are on the inside, whether we intended to share that part of ourselves or not.

So I figured what the h*ll? If humanity survives its emergence from the psychological chaos it's been living in since the day the first unicellular organism had any sort of internal response to anything outside of itself, the future's going to be curious about life in the past. We're already living in the most well-documented era in history, and it's only going to become more so. I'd like to leave future humanity at least one glimpse into what life is like in this day and age - but something sincere, factual and deep. More deep, at least, than caring about the style of clothes one chooses to wear or who's sleeping with who (though that's probably always going to be a part of it).

Peer into the life of one family - my own, as in the one I grew up in as I don't have a spouse or children & so mine is the only family I've ever known. Be aware, of course, that you're only hearing my side - but that's all I have to give, I can't tell you what mom, dad or Candy's perceptions are because I'm not seeing the world through the lens of their own minds. So there are no doubt going to be things I write here which any one of them might disagree with, and which might in fact make any one of them angry if they ever read them. But know this - no matter what I say in this blog, I am giving my most honest impression of the matter and holding nothing back. I am criticized often for saying things which may be true, but which "just shouldn't be said".

To me, that's 6v11$H!+ . Humans have spent so long keeping secrets from each other, lying to each other and putting on false fronts, and the world isn't any better of a place for it. Pretense has done nothing to bring us where we are today, but it's doing everything in its power to tear us down. It always has done this, it always will. You'd think it wouldn't take a species as innovative and resourceful as humans 5,000 or more years of recorded history to figure this out. I'm still relatively young, but I've lived long enough to know that where openness and honesty reside, folks tend to advance well beyond their years in terms of maturity. Where false fronts and artificial facades are relied upon, you never grow because the core that is "you" is never exposed to the real world. Such sham existences are naught more than a way for one to justify their bigotry - be it against those of a different race, religion, gender, sexual orientation - any of it. People love to be bigots, it is a very exciting way to behave in the world to our own inner children because it gives us an excuse to hate, to rail, to act out - it keeps us from being bored, in other words. Such people haven't learned that false securities kill, they destroy, they ruin. Pleasures infinitely more rewarding await those who simply take a moment to sit down, shut up and just be.

Not all the time, of course - I'm not advocating a life of silence (though I'm sure such a life can have some very rewarding consequences internally, it's definitely not for everyone). But at least once in awhile, do something on the "inside" instead of constantly having to keep yourself entertained.

It's really rather depressing in a way, especially when I catch myself living outside of my own advice. Yes, of course I do, far more often than I care to admit. Everyone does. Even those with the best of intentions will often fail to live up to their own most deeply-held convictions.

Anyway, back to my family. The title, you'll notice, is a take on the old phrase, "Family - the ties that bind". I've found great value in taking commonly-understood statements such as this and seeing if there is any insight to be gleaned from turning it around or "inverting" it. So I thought to myself, "Family - the binds that tie..." and you know what? It really rather is accurate that way, even more so than the original. We live with those we come to view as family, whether they're related to us or not. We get into difficult situations and - if you've got a good family - we help each other out. It's those moments when we're at our lowest that we begin to learn who our "family" really is. Quite often, they're not the people we're actually related to. But no matter who your family may be, it's helping each other through the trials and hardships of life that our hearts are tied one to another. It's the binds in life that tie us together in love, not a greater or lesser degree of genetic similarity. Genes mean nothing to what a family truly is, though the situation which arises when children are born is often conducive to turning a group of relative strangers into an actual "family". But beyond that, even if you don't know who your relatives are, family is about so much more than that. A dog or a cat can even be part of your "family" - your true family.

Identifying who is or isn't your "family" is simple - just imagine that you had maybe another ten minutes of life left, after which you'd slip into oblivion. Who are the people you'd want to spend your time thinking about? Who are the people you'd want to say goodbye to or give some special message to? Who are the people you remember with a smile, and who are the people you hope will be able to say the same of you when their time comes? Who do you forgive out of love rather than some sort of perceived "duty", and who do you hope might someday forgive any grudges they may have against you?

These people - all of them, and even the non-human ones - they are more truly your family than any simple genetic bond could ever produce. It's the family we choose for ourselves that matters most, not the family which fate has chosen for us. Sometimes the two are one and the same, and sometimes they aren't. That doesn't matter, though while we're growing up it's often the most important thing in the world to us.

One thing to always remember is that because of a truth such as the above, if your relatives fail you in their function as your "family", they can be replaced. It's not easy, we tend to forge bonds to those we feel we're "supposed" to love even if we haven't really been given any reason to do so and every reason not to do so. But it is possible, and when it's necessary to cut ties with those who are "supposed" to love you, it's okay. You do what you have to do to survive and don't look back. Your heart is the only thing that's truly "yours" in this world, and if you are to truly survive, you must protect it at all costs, and keep its interests and its needs foremost in your life. Sometimes relatives are bad for you, and you're not obligated to love them just because of a few molecular arrangements in some of your cells that are similar to other molecular arrangements in theirs. You can forsake them - in your heart at least if not quite fully in your life - and you need nobody's approval or permission to do so.

I almost made that decision, but turned out to be far luckier than ever I dared hope to be. My childhood and teenage years certainly were such that I rebelled against my birth family inwardly with a vengeance. I knew I was gay from a very young age, and if you know anything at all about Fred Phelps (search for it if you don't, and keep a barf bag handy), you'll have an idea what my own father was often like. At least in his bark - his bite was much less severe than Mr. Phelps', as dad never would have thought to do anything like picketing a funeral or saying that God "hates" anybody. His were essentially the same feelings - that God "hates" - but to actually call it hate is something he would never have done. But the way he used to talk about it, his feelings went way beyond mere disapproval and he thoroughly believed God felt the exact same way.

I came to understood why as I grew into my late teens - his own father was gay, and was to my understanding an extremely painful person to live with in an emotional sense. My dad has a few good memories of him, but very few they seem to be. So dad learned - with the encouragement of fundamentalist Christianity - to blame it all on grandpa's homosexuality instead of just the fact that he was a miserable wretch of a man due to the era he grew up gay in. Grandpa grew up in the 1920's & 30's and I'm sure as I can be that he, too, knew he was gay at a very young age. His was an era in which to be gay was even more condemned and persecuted than in my own youth. Seeing the damage that kind of bigotry did to me and how much worse it must have been for him, he probably never stood a chance of turning out any other way.

Mere "disapproval" of homosexuality, by the way, does not constitute "bigotry" to me. It takes malicious or oppressive intent to warrant that label, at least in my view. Those who "disapprove" of homosexuality without such intent, they have their reasons and I'm sure they're honest. I would never condemn someone for letting it be known that they think it's wrong to be gay, or even that per their religion's teachings, gay people are going to Hell. It's what they've been taught, it may even be a conclusion they arrived at on their own in their more grown-up years due to conversations and experiences with others. But where there is no desire to harm or oppress an individual one "disapproves" of, I do not see bigotry. I see an opportunity for useful discussion, perhaps, but even then only if the individual expresses an unprompted interest in such discussion. Otherwise, I'm more than willing to leave well-enough alone.

Back to my own story. In my late twenties, I finally came out to my parents. I'd never been more terrified to do anything in my life more so than that one thing. I would have sooner thrown myself upon the railroad tracks in front of a speeding train. But when you have a nervous breakdown in front of your own mother and just about collapse into a moldering heap of non-functioning gray matter - and there's no speeding train handy in front of which to fling yourself - there's little else you can do but to just get the dam*ed thing out in the open. Keeping it inside almost literally killed me - not by suicide, but by sheer stress alone.

The new openness to emerge from that one revelation proved to be the best thing that ever could have happened in our lives. Mom & dad were already pretty sure of it, and now could acknowledge it to my face, and I didn't have to pretend to be asexual (without sexuality, which I used as an excuse as to why I wasn't interested in finding a girlfriend).

It was a real adjustment, but eventually mom and dad learned, and dad grew past what even he will now call hate. They still don't approve, but that I can live with. I don't need their approval, I never did - I only ever needed to know that they at least didn't totally hate me. I thought even love was too much to expect, having grown up 100% convinced that they secretly hated me for something I wasn't actually sure they knew - that exacts a horrifying toll on the mind. To this day I have some pretty crippling emotional and psychological problems from it.

Today, however, my parents have never been more loving or supportive. We have a relationship now that is everything I could've wished for while growing up. The change in them came far too late to avoid doing major damage, but then I've come to learn that even that wasn't really their fault. They were raised in the manner in which they were raised, and were only doing what seemed best at the time to protect the futures of their children both in this life and the next. I would never expect "approval" from them when it comes to my sexuality - people should never be condemned for an honest belief. But they've grown up, too, along with me.

It was that bind which made us finally feel like a family. Prior to that, I probably spent the first 25 years of my life in denial - denial that I was theirs, denial that I could possibly have ever come from such a wretchedly mind-crushing culture. We - meaning my mom, dad and myself - are everything a family should be.

As for my sister, well, she's a different story entirely. There's not much that can be said. She just doesn't take any sort of criticism or disagreement very well, she bites back to any such thing with deliberately cruel remarks designed to cause maximum pain and has yet to say she's sorry - if not for saying it, at least for the fact that it caused pain whether or not that's what she consciously intended. So I really can't suffer any more just because she refuses to deal with others like a grown 40-year old woman should. That tie for now is but a frayed thread - I feel no closeness or bond to her any longer because to date, I've not been able to have a single adult conversation with her where she has not turned everything around and used it to judge, criticize and condemn me. There is no openness or emotional closeness there, and it's her choice. She's become little more than a stranger to me. The only good thing I feel towards her now is that I'm glad she gave birth to Mikey. Through him, maybe she actually can contribute something positive to the world. For now, the only thing she has ultimately brought to my life is coldness, condemnation and self-righteous arrogance.

But I'll get into all that at a later date. For now, that, brings us to the end of this little introduction. There's so much more I could say on any of the above, but I think those things each deserve their own write-up. Just for the record, I'm not writing anything here that I'm afraid for anyone to read. I'm writing the truth, and one should never have to be afraid to state what they feel.